


The Waiting Game

by lettersfromnowhere



Series: The Waiting Game [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged Up, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Mutual Pining, Post-War, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 94,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25272334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettersfromnowhere/pseuds/lettersfromnowhere
Summary: Newly-crowned Fire Lord Zuko and Katara of the Southern Water Tribe can't deny that there'ssomethingbetween them, but the timing is all wrong. Zuko's got Fire Lord things to do and a missing mother to find, after all, and Katara's needed at home and wondering if she even knows what 'home' means anymore. There's nothing to be done: they're going to have to choose duty over love.But that doesn't mean that spark has faded over the years, and when their paths cross again several years later, Zuko and Katara must decide if the feelings they've buried for so many years are worth fighting for.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Ursa & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: The Waiting Game [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867837
Comments: 906
Kudos: 391





	1. Heartache and Homecomings

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of those "I wanted to read this story, so I wrote it" stories. I've seen plenty of post-war fanfics that put off Katara and Zuko's confession of feelings because they're with other people, but I've never read one where they acknowledge from the beginning that they have feelings from each other but choose not to act on them because it's not the right time. And I wanted that: the realism of two people who love each other admitting that acting on their feelings isn't in their best interest, that the timing is off, that they're too young, that they have growing to do before they commit to each other. 
> 
> So I wrote about it. 
> 
> This is my first attempt at this kind of longer, more serious story (I'm hoping to hit about 80k-90k words), and I'm not sure if I'm up to the challenge, but this story wouldn't shut up until I told it. So here I am. Without further ado, "The Waiting Game."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the war, Zuko and Katara come to a difficult conclusion. Later, Zuko meets an unlikely ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For timeline purposes, the Ba Sing Se scene takes the place of the Kataang kiss from the finale, so it happens at the end of Book 3, and the next scene takes place a few weeks later, at the beginning of Zuko's reign.
> 
> Also, I've never used an OC this way before, but Hina's going to be a Big Deal (don't worry, she's not a romantic rival!) in this story, so I wanted to introduce her early. She's going to play a big role in the first of three "arcs" I have planned for this story. This arc, "The Chase," will deal with Zuko's early days as Fire Lord, Katara's complicated feelings about her place in the world, and the search for Ursa (which will NOT follow comic canon because No Canon Here, We Die Like Men). So, um. Enjoy!

**_The Jasmine Dragon - Ba Sing Se_ **

**_Two weeks after the end of the Hundred-Year War_ **

“Hey.”

  
Katara turned from the balcony railing where she leaned to face Zuko. The golden-hour light silhouetted his frame in the doorway, the soft green of his Earth Kingdom robes charmingly out-of-place on a boy she’d only ever seen in red. “Hi, Zuko,” she replied, tilting her head towards the railing in what she hoped he’d understand as a _come, join me_ gesture. “Bored of Pai Sho?”

  
“Not exactly.” He joined her at the railing, resting his elbows against it and leaning forward. Katara mirrored his posture, looking out over the rings of the city. “I just needed a moment.”

“Oh.” Katara didn’t have much to say, but it felt important to respond with _something._ “Um…the weather is nice, isn’t it?”

“The _weather?_ Really, Katara?” Zuko’s pensive expression turned to a smirk. “I thought starting awkward conversations was _my_ thing.”

“Shut up,” Katara muttered, her cheeks reddening. “I had to say _something.”_

“No, you don’t,” Zuko said, his voice softer than she’d have thought it could be. “I mean, not that I don’t like talking to you! It’s just…” he raked a hand through his hair – she knew that was his _I’ve-gotten-myself-into-a-mess-haven’t-I_ gesture. “We don’t need to talk.”

“Did you _want_ me to be quiet?” Katara asked, thoroughly confused and a little hurt. _What exactly does he want from me?_ She couldn’t help but wonder. “Because if you do, I can just go-“

“No. Please.” Impulsively, Zuko reached for her hand and took firm hold of it, risking a fleeting glance in her direction to see how she’d reacted. “Stay.”

The color in Katara’s cheeks returned. “All right,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Who am I to say no to the _Fire Lord?”_

Now it was Zuko’s turn to flush. “You know it isn’t like that, right?” he said, a little panicked. “You never have to feel like you owe me anything just because I’m the Fire Lord now. You’re my _friend-“_

“Zuko,” Katara said, amusement sneaking past her defenses and making its way into her voice. “I know that. I was _kidding.”_

“Oh. Right.” Zuko winced. “Sorry, I’m still new at this.”

“What, humor?” Katara leaned ever-so-slightly to her left, closer to him.

“No. Having friends.”

Katara’s smile faltered as the words sunk in. As much as she wanted to deny it, the same was true for her: she’d grown up in a loving family, but she’d had as few interactions with anyone her own age as Zuko had – if not even less – before she’d met Aang. They had that in common; friendship was a novelty to both of them.

“Me, too,” she reassured him, unlacing her fingers from his to lay her palm against his forearm. He looked up, a little startled at the contact, and when he finally managed to maintain eye contact with Katara for more than a millisecond, she saw that his face was red and his expression was sheepish.

“Isn’t it kind of sad?” he said, unsuccessfully trying to hide the fact that he was impossibly flustered behind a forcedly bitter tone. “I’m the ruler of an entire _country,_ and I’d barely even had an actual friend until…what, two months ago?”

“But you do now,” Katara said. It was a weak rebuttal, but a true one, and she had little else to say. She wanted the words to match his worries – grand, sweeping phrases that’d smooth over years of heartache, paint over darkness in brilliant color. But all she had were those simple ones.

“I do.” He shifted, careful not to move the arm where her palm rested. “I’m grateful for that.”

“I just wish we didn’t all have to go our own ways,” Katara said. “I mean…I know why, but it’s still hard, you know?”

_Hard to let go when we’ve been everything to each other for a year. Hard to go back to our tiny corner of the world when our worlds have gotten so much bigger. Hard to leave you. Hard to say goodbye._

_Hard not to tell you the real reason I can’t bear the thought of leaving you._

“It is,” Zuko agreed, his expression unreadable. “But we’ll see each other again.”

“Oh, I’m sure will, but how long?” Katara let out a long sigh, her shoulders slumping a little. “It’s going to be weird, going from traveling the world – _saving_ the world – with you guys, to…being alone in a place where there’s only one other person my age.”

“Same here,” Zuko agreed. “I’m going to have to sit in so many meetings that I’ll probably lose track of them.”

“I’d trade places with you,” Katara teased halfheartedly. “I’ll yell at old courtiers with backwards views, and you can…I don’t know, fish? Mend clothes? Cook sea prunes with Gran-Gran?”

“I don’t think Gran-Gran would take too kindly to that, seeing as we didn’t exactly leave things off on good terms.” They both winced at the memory of Zuko and Gran-Gran’s last encounter.

“Oh, she’d throw you in the ocean the first chance she got,” Katara teased. “But still.”

“But still,” he repeated without even really knowing why. They slipped into a semi-comfortable silence after that, watching the sun disappear behind the city’s wall. The sky was almost violently orange tonight, streaked with lilac where clouds covered the sun; it was lovely, if jarring.

“I’m going to miss this,” Katara murmured.

“What, they don’t have sunsets in the South Pole?” Zuko asked. She was fairly certain he was being facetious – drawing out the conversation while steering it away from anything he didn’t want to discuss (the Fire Lord’s ability to evade things he didn’t want to deal with could rival Aang’s on a good day) – but his tone was too flat to allow her to be sure. 

“They do, but only three months of the year that the sun shines.” She glanced over, laughing when his eyes widened in horror. It made her feel lighter, laughing with him – carefree, bold, free to do or say as she pleased. She certainly felt that way now, and before she could talk herself out of it, she found herself admitting, “and I don’t get to watch them with you.”

Zuko stiffened. “I’m sure they’re just as nice without me,” he muttered, staring down at the railing as if it were about to reveal the answers to life’s greatest mysteries.

“Don’t, Zuko.” Katara grazed her hand along his forearm as she brought it back down to grab his, every nerve ending lighting up at the touch.

  
“Don’t what?” he said gruffly.

“Pretend that whatever this thing is doesn’t exist,” she said, pulling back and setting her hands on her hips. “Look, I wasn’t going to say anything, but are you seriously going to deny that there’s _something_ going on between us?”

Zuko paused, considering the question and no doubt weighing possible responses. “…no,” he admitted. “No, there is.”

“Like I thought.” Katara uncrossed her arms, letting them hang awkwardly at her sides.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Yeah, there’s…something.”

“How long?” she asked, suddenly nervous.

  
“You mean…”

“It was after Yon Rha for me,” Katara admitted, crossing her arms protectively. She broke eye contact. “I didn’t want to admit it, but…I felt it anyway.”

“Since sometime after the catacombs,” Zuko replied. He wasn’t looking at her, either. “I couldn’t get you out of my head, and I thought it was because I felt so guilty, but…”

“It’s never that easy, is it?” Katara sighed.

“Nope.” He slumped against the railing again, his shoulders hunched. “Awful timing, huh?”

“It really is,” Katara said. “I mean, you have Fire Lording to do-“

“Did you just use my title as a verb?”

“Yes, and it’s an _excellent_ description, so don’t expect me to apologize.” Katara stuck out her tongue and for a moment, the regretful chill between them thawed until it nearly felt warm again. “Anyway. You have Fire Lording to do, and I need to go home, and who _knows_ when we’ll be able to see each other again…”

“So what do we do?” Zuko asked.

“Honestly…I don’t think there’s anything we even _could_ do,” Katara said. Saying it felt like a weight off her back, but her shoulders drooped as if a heavier weight had settled there in its place. “We can’t be together like this.”

“Sokka and Suki are going to be apart, too, but they’re making that work,” Zuko said in an attempt to change her mind that both knew was doomed from the start.

“I know, but Zuko…” Katara buried her face in her hands. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He didn’t want to say it, but Zuko didn’t, either. He’d tried to rationalize it, lay awake at night a couple times wondering if there was any way they’d get more than misery out of the spark between them when every possible set of odds was stacked against it, but he’d always come to the same conclusion. It wasn’t time – not now, maybe not ever. There were all too many reasons for that: they were too young, they were needed more by others than by each other, the scrutiny that any paramour of the Fire Lord would face would be more than he could bear to subject her to.

“I don’t either,” he said. “I’m sorry, Katara.”

“Hey, don’t.” She reached for his hand, and he let her take it even though it was limp in hers. “None of this is anyone’s fault, right?”

“No, but I still wish it had been someone else.” He was acutely aware of the dead weight of his limp hand in hers now.

“Right?” Katara shook her head, inhaling deeply and holding the breath for a moment before she let it out in a long sigh. “It’d be so much easier if you felt like this about some classy Fire Nation girl who everyone would approve of-“

“It’s not that.” He couldn’t stomach the idea of her thinking _that_ was why he’d said what he’d said. “I don’t care what anyone thinks, Katara. What I care about is you being unhappy in a relationship with someone you never even _see.”_

“Oh.” She bit her lip. “I get it. I wouldn’t want to be a distraction from your work.”

He wanted to point out that he could probably _use_ a distraction, or at very least an ally in a palace full of vipers, but he chose not to. “If you want, I’ll wait,” he said instead. “Until it’s a better time. To…you know.”

Katara turned suddenly, facing away from him as she brought her head to rest in her hands. “Please don’t make me any promises, Zuko,” she said, her voice wavering. “You can’t possibly know if you’ll be able to do that, and I-I-“

Her voice faded as it gave way to sobs and, in spite of every better instinct he possessed, Zuko approached her and, cautiously, laced his arms around her waist. She stiffened in his arms at first, her back flush against his chest, but soon she slumped against him, turning to bury her face in his robes. “I hate that I _always_ have to make the responsible decision,” she sniffled, her tears leaving droplets on the green satin of his robe.

“I know.” It was all Zuko could think to say – he knew the feeling all too well.

“All I want to do is ignore all of this and say _yes,”_ she continued. “But people need me, and…”

_I need you._ It was on the tip of both of their tongues but neither said it. “I know, Katara.” He tightened his arms around her, wondering how many more times he’d get to hold her like this. “I want that, too. But…”

“Fire Lord things,” Katara sniffled. “Trust me, I know.”

They were silent for a moment, Katara’s tears slowly subsiding as Zuko rubbed circles against her back with the flat of his palm and tried not to think. The sun had long since sunk below the horizon and the dimness of night began to set in, the air starting to chill. “Don’t wait for me,” Katara finally said after what felt like an eternity. “If someone else comes along, don’t let me hold you back.”

“You could never hold me back,” Zuko protested. “But if you don’t want me to wait…”

“Thank you, Zuko.” She finally pulled away, taking both of his hands on the way down. “Thank you for understanding.”

He dropped one of her hands and pressed it to her cheek. “Always, Katara,” he said, and she pressed her hand to his, nuzzling her cheek into his palm. His heart melted and for the first time it finally hit him just how hard this would be – waiting for her without waiting for her, loving her without loving her. He wanted to bottle up this moment and keep it for the days when it hurt most, but he knew that all he had was this moment. He’d make it count.

  
“Katara?” he asked, cautious even in his willing indiscretion.

“Yes?” she said, releasing the hand that had been holding his in place.

  
“Could I kiss you?”

She stared at him, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes widened. “Zuko…”

“I just want something to remember this by,” he said. “But if you don’t want me to-“

“Don’t make it harder for me to say goodbye,” she stammered, shaking her head and dropping his hands.

With one last look at Zuko, she turned, picked up her skirts, and ran.

* * *

_**Two Weeks Later** _

**_Fire Nation Palace - Caldera City_ **

“Sorry, what?” Zuko rubbed at bleary eyes, trying to remember what Uncle Iroh had been saying before he zoned out.

“I was reminding you that you have a meeting with one of the candidates for the vacant intelligence position in five minutes,” Uncle repeated patiently. He’d left the tea shop for a few weeks to assist his nephew as he learned the ropes of his position; one of his first acts as regent, before Zuko had even recovered from his injuries, had been to discharge several officials whose loyalties were in question. And since those positions had to be filled again, he’d encouraged Zuko to choose candidates based on personal merit, not birth or connections, as they’d traditionally been selected – an idea he’d be all for if it didn’t mean a thousand more meetings to attend. “I think you’re going to like this one.”

“Is it really necessary to meet with all of these people?” Zuko asked, yawning. He felt like he hadn’t slept in years. “What I need to be doing is restoring relations with the other nations, not interviewing potential palace chefs-“

“People with direct access to your food, Zuko. You have to know who you’re hiring,” Iroh chided. “And besides, this next candidate isn’t a chef.”

“Or ministers of…whatever it was last week,” Zuko argued.

“Finance,” Uncle reminded him. “This one’s supposed to replace the old spymaster.”

That caught Zuko’s attention. The old spymaster had been one of his father’s staunchest allies. “Oh?”

“Trust me, Zuko, this one comes with the full endorsement of the White Lotus Society.” He patted his shoulder and shoved open the doors to his office, where a petite, sharp-jawed woman about his age was already seated. “Zuko, this is Hina Oyama.”

The woman stood and bowed stiffly, and Zuko narrowed his eyes. “Oyama…where have I heard that name?” he muttered to himself as he took a seat.

“My parents,” Hina said, taking his cue to sit. “Yuna and Masaki Oyama. They served under your father.” Her schooled features made her face nearly unreadable, but it was hard to ignore the undercurrent of disgust in her voice.

Zuko’s face fell. Of course he’d heard of Chisato and Masaki – they’d been a husband-wife team, one a former Kyoshi warrior and the other a peasant-turned-soldier whose brilliant mind for strategy had allowed him to work his way up though the ranks, running the Fire Nation government’s intelligence division with ruthless efficiency and undeniable efficacy. But they’d stepped out of line somewhere in all of that, and now their names were synonymous with treason in some circles and martyrdom in others. “Allow me to apologize,” Zuko stammered, unsure why someone with such cause to hate his family would even _want_ to work for him. “Your parents were-“

“Thank you,” Hina interrupted, and Zuko’s eyes widened. _Interrupting the Fire Lord? She has guts._ He didn’t mind, but he knew most monarchs wouldn’t have stood for it. “May I speak frankly, Your Highness?”

“Of course, Miss Oyama.” Zuko swallowed hard; this wasn’t going to be pretty.

“I, frankly, hate the idea of working for the family that murdered my parents,” she said, her tone cool but unmistakably condemning. “But, seeing as you have the backing of your Uncle and the entire White Lotus Society, I am willing to…reevaluate.”

_Again, bold of her._ It was as if she was the one interviewing _him_ for the position. “You’re White Lotus?” Zuko threw a quick glance over at Iroh, who’d been quiet this whole time.

“No, the Liberation League,” Hina replied. “I joined as a child, after my parents died, and led it for several years. We had White Lotus contacts.”

_A resistance member,_ Zuko realized, a little bit awed. He’d known that underground movements against Ozai’s regime had existed, but he’d heard little about any of them. “And I trust that’s how you met General Iroh?”

Hina nodded curtly. “He approached me when you were crowned, saying you would need a spymaster and asking if I’d consider filling the position.” Her expression didn’t change, though her inflection did. “Apparently, he considered me qualified.”

“She is,” Iroh cut in. He didn’t seem bothered by the girl’s bluntness or her lack of deference. “Hina’s rough around the edges” – oh, so _that_ was his rebuttal of her rudeness! – “but she’s talented, intelligent, and as committed to righting past wrongs as you are.”

“Well, he’s right about that last thing,” Hina said. “All I want is a better Fire Nation. And it’s _only_ because you appear to be reform-minded that I’m considering this.”

“I, um. I am,” Zuko stammered, completely aware that Hina was judging his ineloquence. “I think we…probably share a lot of the same ideals.”

“Perhaps.” Hina nodded, raising her chin resolutely. “I can promise that if we do, you’ll find no one willing to work harder for a cause than I am.”

“And that’s why I already offered her the position,” Iroh cut in, judging Zuko’s side with his elbow.

“You _what?”_ Zuko wasn’t upset about the choice – he’d have hired Hina himself – but he hadn’t even been aware that Iroh was _allowed_ to do that. “I mean. Um, welcome to the staff, sorry my Uncle went behind my back to hire you, I look forward to working with you-“

“You’re almost like a real person when you’re caught off-guard,” Hina said, faint amusement creeping past her ever-present mask of blankness. “Thank you, Your Highness. I look forward to working with you.”

Hina bowed stiffly and Zuko was left sitting at his desk, agog.

“I’m sorry, but there was no one else nearly as qualified.” Uncle shrugged.

“Oh, I know,” Zuko huffed. “But could you have saved me _another_ pointless meeting?”

Uncle chuckled at that, clapping Zuko on the back. “You and I both know that if it hadn’t been that one, it would’ve been another,” he chuckled. “Welcome to your life now.” Zuko muttered something incoherent, which Iroh ignored. “Besides,” he continued, “I think that with time, Hina could be the kind of ally and friend that you are going to need.”

“We’ll see about that,” Zuko muttered. “For now, I’m going to sleep before I collapse.”


	2. Letters and Leads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Katara exchange letters, aggressively attempting to remain platonic and failing completely. Katara and Sokka have a heart-to-heart, Hina has news for Zuko, and Operation: Find Mom gets underway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the warm reception of the first chapter! I hope that now that we've got that expositional slog out of the way, this will be more exciting. I know Arc 1 - which is pretty light on romance - is going to be a little hard for me to write, but I look forward to sharing it with you even so!

_Dear Katara,_

_Do you ever get the feeling that time is passing too quickly and too slowly all at once? That’s how I’ve felt these past few weeks. There are reparations to negotiate and new officials to hire and councils to meet with and plans to make and I don’t think I’ve properly slept in two weeks. Uncle is helpful, of course, but it’s never been more clear to me that I’m in over my head._

_~~I still have time to miss you, though.~~ _

__

_I am glad that I have allies, though. One of the first things Uncle Iroh did after I was crowned was to clear out my father’s old inner circle and start finding people to replace his advisors and officials. Makes sense, doesn’t it? I need to know that my closest advisors aren’t going to stab me and put my father back on the throne at the first available opportunity. But there are so many of them, Katara, and Uncle is making me interview them all. He didn’t leave any stones unturned, that’s for sure; everyone from loyal kitchen staff to the Minister of Finance had to be replaced. And though there were some staff and officials who he chose without my input (probably because I said I couldn’t care less about who was cooking my food or dusting the royal portraits as long as they didn’t want me dead), I am expected to choose my own inner circle from the candidates that he and the White Lotus recommend. So far I’ve chosen only a few. Wei Luong, my Minister of War, is hard to get a read on but seems decent enough and will at least be considered credible because of his military experience. Maiyin Guo, the finance minister, is a bit of an odd choice, as she has some purported connections to organized crime (again, I find myself asking where Uncle finds these people), but the White Lotus recommended her on the grounds that she has a way with finances and was extremely reform-minded even in her criminal days. Haruki Rinata is half-Earth National and has traveled extensively, so I think he will do well as Foreign Minister. _

_And then there is Hina Oyama._

_Hina is the new head of the intelligence service and about the unlikeliest choice of advisor I could have imagined, even moreso than the Minister of Finance with a criminal record longer than mine. Her parents worked under my father, who had them executed for refusal to follow some order – I can’t remember, I was so young – and Hina joined the Liberation League a few years later. She’s only a little older than I am, but she’s a brilliant strategist and led the group for several years. Apparently, she worked with White Lotus contacts a few times, so Uncle knew of her and recommended her to me._

_He also hired her without my consent, which I’m still mad about._

_Anyway. Hina has every reason to hate my family, and she said as much when I interviewed her. Most of the candidates I interviewed were tripping over their own feet to be as proper and deferential as they could be, but not Hina. She’d interrupt me, say what she was thinking, and call the shots as if I were the one being interviewed, not her, and it was refreshing. Most past Fire Lords would’ve been outraged by that, but I’m getting tired of protocol, and ~~you already know all about my fondness for women who aren’t afraid to speak their minds~~ she is a capable leader and intelligence agent who shares my goals. Uncle suspects that we are going to get along well, although I’m not sure if that is because we’re close in age or just because ~~she reminds me of you~~ we have a lot in common. Regardless, I have no doubt that she will do her job well. That’s why I’m assigning her to a mission of a more…personal nature. _

_It might be foolish to send such a high-ranking official out into the world like this, but I’m putting Hina in charge of searching for my mother._

_I know I told you that I’d been asking my father for any information concerning my mother’s whereabouts, but he wouldn’t give me anything I could use, so I’ve had to take matters into my own hands. Unfortunately, with the amount of Fire Lord Things (to use your phrase) I’ve had to deal with has meant that I’ve made almost no headway, and I’m not sure if I have the time or the capability to make any real progress on my own. That’s why I’m asking Hina to look into it. She’ll probably hate this assignment, because I know that what she really wants to do is effect lasting change, and this mission is an almost purely selfish one, but I know that if anyone can help me find my mother, it’s her._

_I know you’re needed in the South Pole, but I wish you could be here to search with me._

_Please, let me know how things are back at home, and make it as long of a letter as you can because I can get away from meetings if I pretend that your letters are diplomatic reports._

_Love,_

_Zuko_

* * *

Balmy afternoon air whipped through Katara’s hair and robes and she raised her face towards the sun, letting the wind off the ocean wash over her. The storms in her mind rarely let up anymore, but here on the open sea, it was a little easier to at least pretend she could clear away the doubts and fears that clouded over her thoughts.

(She hadn’t noticed the looks Sokka and Suki gave each other whenever they realized that she’d run off again, or the whispers of sailors who wondered why the ocean-eyed girl with her haunted expression was so often found out on deck. No one knew, but many speculated; the stories they concocted about her and why she acted as she did grew wilder and less probable by the day.

No one seemed to understand that the reality behind her haunted looks and wistful gazes over the water was simple as could be.)

“Hey, are you okay?” Sokka’s voice jarred Katara from her thoughts. She turned around, pressing her back against the railing protectively.

“Of course.” She managed a labored smile. “Why, do you need me?”

Sokka narrowed his eyes. “Why would I-oh, never mind.” He crossed his arms. “Are you going to tell me what you’re always doing out here or not?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Katara said. It _was_ the truth – really, she was just staring out over the ocean; what everyone saw was what they got. “I’m fine, Sokka, really.”

“Okay, it’s just that you’re _always_ out here,” Sokka persisted. “I don’t think you’d be spending hours staring out at the ocean if you were actually fine.”

Katara’s breath caught in her throat. “Hours?” she said, so soft that Sokka almost didn’t hear her. “It’s been that long?”

“Well, now I _know_ something’s up.” Sokka took a few steps forward to join her at the railing. “Losing track of time, staring at nothing – are you gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?”

“I just miss everyone,” Katara said. “Really, Sokka. It’s just going to be a big adjustment. I guess I just need time to think things through.”

“We all do, Katara,” Sokka said, his voice softer now. “But we’re all worried about you. Going back home after spending a year on the road is hard for all of us, but only you seem so…” he shrugged, searching for a word. “Lost.” 

“Lost?” Katara repeated, trying the feeling on for size. _Lost –_ yes, that was exactly how she felt. “Yeah. I guess I do kind of feel like that.”

“I get it, I really do,” Sokka replied. “But don’t you think you’d feel better if you came back inside and, I don’t know, talked about it?”

“You _don’t_ get it, Sokka,” Katara sighed. “I know you think you do, but this trip…it changed me. Traveling with all of you guys, having a real _goal –_ it was the first time in my entire life where I’ve felt like a person and not a pack animal.”

“A _pack animal?”_ Sokka narrowed his eyes. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Back home, all I was ever expected to do was carry other people’s burdens,” Katara explained. “There was no goal, no change, just ‘oh, Katara will take care of that,’ ‘go ask Katara,’ ‘I’m sure Katara already did it, _right, Katara?’,_ and none of what I was doing ever made a real difference, or helped anyone grow. It was all just…surviving. But with you guys, I felt…” she took a deep breath. “Like I could _do_ something. Like a real person.”

“Oh.” Sokka looked down into the waves, unsure how to respond.

“And like, for once, I didn’t have to carry every single burden on my own,” Katara continued. “I had friends to help me. And now I’m going to fall straight back into my old role like I never left, and all of the ways I’ve changed this year don’t even matter.”

“You still have us,” Sokka said. “I know it’s not the same, but you can always write to them.” He paused to consider. “Well, maybe not Toph. But Suki, Aang, Zuko…” He trailed off, noticing how Katara stiffened at that. “What?”

“Nothing,” Katara replied, knowing he’d noticed. Her voice was too strained to make the lie believable, though.

“Is this because of what happened with Aang after the play?” Sokka asked. “Because you know he’s going to get over that, right?”

“Of course not,” Katara replied. “I mean, things are a little awkward, and I’m sorry I had to hurt him, but we’re friends. That’s not going to change.”

“Okay, while I’m glad to hear that,” Sokka replied, “I know for a _fact_ you aren’t upset with Suki, so that leaves-“

He paused, finally understanding.

“Oh, Spirits, _no,_ ” he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You cannot _seriously_ be telling me that you have a thing for Zuko-“

“I’m not _telling_ you anything!” Katara snapped, her slumped shoulders suddenly straightening. Her face flushed and her eyes went wide with indignation, and Sokka, in spite of himself, smirked.

“I can’t believe I didn’t put that together already,” he said, evidently trying not to laugh for his sister’s sake but failing completely. “You and Zuko? I-“

“He feels the same way.” Katara didn’t give herself time to think before she blurted out a reply; there was no point in hiding it now that she knew Sokka was aware of her feelings, and it could do her some good to talk about it. “And I said I didn’t want to be with him.”

“But _why?”_ Sokka looked utterly mystified. “You like each other, he’s the _Fire Lord,_ and you just…turn him down?”

“You don’t _get_ it, Sokka!” Katara said, burying her face in her hands. “Even if we were ‘together,’ we couldn’t actually be _together,_ and I’d just be…sitting at home, slowly pining myself to death over a boyfriend I’d never get to see-“

“So you didn’t want to be apart,” Sokka interrupted. “Oh. I get it now.”

“I wanted to,” she said, her voice small and her arms wrapped protectively around her waist. “I wanted to say yes _so badly._ But the timing is so bad, and we’re so young, and…it just…”

“I’m sorry, Katara.” He moved closer, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “I really am.”

“It makes me so _mad,”_ she cried, her hands grasping the fabric of his tunic for dear life. “I just…I just wish making the right choice didn’t have to hurt like this!”

“Love can be rough,” Sokka agreed. “But at least he’ll always be your best friend, yeah?” That only made Katara cry harder, at which Sokka winced. “Ugh, sorry. I’m terrible at this.”

“It’s going to b-be so h-hard,” she stammered, her chin trembling. “Being his b-best friend, _knowing_ that it could be more but it isn’t.”

He didn’t respond to that. There was nothing to say – what was supposed to console Katara when she’d made the only choice she felt she could and no possible course of action would make her feel any better about it?

She cried into his tunic, the ocean breeze rippling through their clothes, until she could cry no longer.

* * *

Zuko stood at the knock on his office door, silently thanking whoever was there for the unintentional but sorely-needed break from paperwork that their presence provided. “Come in,” he called, unsurprised when Hina swung open the door and deposited a scroll on his desk with little fanfare.

“We just got a new report from an agent in the Southern Delta,” she said by way of an explanation. “They think they have a lead on your mother’s case.”

Zuko’s heart leapt. “Do you think this one has any promise?” he asked, unrolling the scroll so eagerly that it nearly tore.

“I wouldn’t discount it,” Hina said cautiously. “I can’t be sure, but the source is credible, the details all check out, and frankly, it’s the best lead we’ve had so far.”

Zuko scanned the scroll, narrowing his eyes. “A rice farm? What would she be doing on a rice farm?” he muttered.

“Hiding from your father, My Lord,” Hina deadpanned.

Zuko bristled. Hina’s bluntness didn’t usually bother him, but it did get old sometimes. “Yes, but why would she be there, specifically?”

  
“Again, to hide from your father,” Hina said. “No one would look for the former Fire Lady on a remote rice farm in the Southern Delta.”

“But if she were there, wouldn’t she have heard about the end of the war and returned home?” Zuko asked, puzzled. “Or at least contacted someone?”

“There’s no guarantee that she even knows, sir,” Hina explained. “This place is just that isolated. I know it sounds impossible, but it’s as far removed from any trace of humanity as she could’ve gotten. It’s a village of barely more than fifty people in a valley set so far back in the Western Mountains that almost no one ever comes or goes.”

“And how exactly did this agent get a lead on my mother there if no one’s been in or out?”

“Not disclosed, but I wouldn’t put it past our agents.” Hina shrugged. “If you want to follow it, I’d be willing to go look into it myself.”

“Thank you, Hina,” Zuko said, touched that she’d even considered it. “That’s…kind of you. But I’ll be going myself.”

Hina’s eyes narrowed. “Absolutely not,” she said firmly. “Do you have any idea how dangerous-“

“Fine. Then you’ll come with me.” Zuko stood. “Thank you. Really.”

Hina had no further protests, apparently, and simply nodded mutely, backing out of the room.

“Spymistress Oyama?” he called after her, and Hina froze, turning back towards him.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Thank you,” he said. “I know you probably hate being assigned to such a personal case, but the work you’re doing means more to me than you will ever know.”

Hina’s expression softened. “Permission to speak frankly?”

“You always do that,” Zuko said, “but of course.”

“If it my parents were out there somewhere, I’d do anything to get them back,” she said. “I’m glad I can help you find yours.”

* * *

_Dear Zuko,_

_You know I can still read what you cross out, right?_

_~~I miss you, too.~~ _

__

_I’m glad you’re doing some house-cleaning. It sounds like you’re going to need all the help you can get, so it’s good that you have loyal officials now, even if one of them is a criminal. (Sokka and I had a good laugh over that when your letter arrived.) And you seem to think highly of this Hina person…hm, do I have competition?_

_(I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say things like that, I know. It’s just kind of hard to resist sometimes.)_

_  
Anyway. It’s good to hear that you have someone like her in your corner, and I hope she can help you find your mother! Please write to me whenever you have news. I wish I could be there to help, too, but since I can’t, I expect updates. I’m so happy for you, Zuko, and I hope everything goes well. ~~If~~ when you find her, I hope I get to meet your mother someday. If she’s anything like you, I think I’m going to like her. _

_It’s a good thing you have exciting news, because I don’t. We’re back at the South Pole after dropping off Suki at Kyoshi Island, and there isn’t much happening on my end. Turns out that going home wasn’t as exciting as I expected. Everyone’s returning from the war, and it’s nice to see families reuniting, but I feel weirdly left out of it all. Because yes, I have a name and a face everybody here knows, but I don’t really feel like the same girl that I was when I left last year. Traveling and fighting with all of you changed me so much that I don’t really know how to go back to being the Katara I used to be, spending all my time sitting in an igloo stirring sea prunes or out making sure Sokka doesn’t get himself killed. I miss you all, and I miss having something to do. I miss being my own person._

_But no one here would ever understand that._

_I hate to say it, but this doesn’t feel like home anymore. Home was people who loved me and a job to do. Home was wherever we could find a place to stop for the night. Appa’s saddle. Random clearings we slept in and all the little inns we stayed at when we could afford them. Home was having friends with me, people who knew me and took me as I was._

_And what I feel here isn’t that. It couldn’t be_ further _from that, really. Here, I feel lost and isolated and alone, and I hate it._

_  
I know you wanted this to be long, and I’m sorry I don’t have more to tell you. I guess all there is left to say is that I wish you were here with me._

_Love,_

_Katara_


	3. Going to Market

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Hina bond and encounter some...interesting folk as they set out for the rural village where Ursa could be hiding out. Katara is pensive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, it's tomorrow, so this is NOT two updates in one day, but screw it. I'm gonna update again today anyway, y'all know I will.  
> Also, today on Lessons in Uncreative Place Naming, "Daotian" literally means rice paddy in Mandarin and "Jizhen" means market town, dhiohfhfg help. Please enjoy! 
> 
> OKAY BUT THE QUOTE THAT THIS TITLE IS FROM IS KILLING ME: "It is the very error of the moon; she comes more nearer earth than she was wont, and makes men mad." OW.

Hina’s knee knocked into Zuko’s side as the cart hit a rut in the road and, for neither the first nor the last time in the past hour, he had to bite his lip so as not to let out an unholy shriek of frustration.

Privately, Zuko knew that he’d signed on for this when he’d insisted on going to the village where his mother might’ve been hiding himself. Such a journey meant rough dirt roads and disguises and hot, cramped, uncomfortable carts jammed full of the motliest crew of travelers he’d ever seen. But it still was not enjoyable with the sun beating down on their backs, Hina’s knees ramming his ribs every time the cart hit a bump (which it did frequently), and hearing a million unasked-for life stories from a group of elderly farmers traveling together to a market on the way there.

  
That, he decided, was the worst part.

“And I never returned to that accursed town!” one of those farmers, a sun-grizzled old woman in a massive straw hat, finished, a wild look in her eyes that had Zuko a little concerned even as he tried to tune her out. The man sitting beside her – probably her husband – put his hand on her arm to still her outburst.

“Now, now, Hua Mei,” he said soothingly.

Hua Mei removed her arm from underneath his and swatted at his hand. “Don’t you ‘now, now’ me, Hongbo!” she spat. “These _lovely people_ asked me to tell them about my life. I was simply _obliging!”_

Hongbo seemed to know that resistance was futile, and he backed away. “Anyone else?” he asked, searching the passengers for anyone who might be able to bring about a turn in the conversation. “Life stories? Advice? Anecdotes?”

Hua Mei seemed to catch his drift and nodded along, suddenly placated. “Gardening tips? Steamy, forbidden trysts?” she added with a waggle of her eyebrows.

_Kill me now,_ Zuko thought.

“Hua Mei!” Hongbo had the decency to appear scandalized.

“ _What?_ I’m only trying to pass the time!” Hua Mei threw up her hands. “ _Fine,_ then, the _appropriate_ version. You!” she gestured to Hina, who looked horrified. It took a lot to get Hina to drop her ever-present mask of indifference, but Hua Mei was…exactly that.

“Um. Yes?” she stammered, uncharacteristically awkward.

“What’s your name, young lady?” Hua Mei asked.

Hina bristled at that, and Zuko almost laughed – _young lady_ from an old, nosy farm woman was probably the gravest insult Hina could’ve received, in her mind. “Yilin,” she told the woman, using the cover name she’d chosen for their mission.

“Tell me, Yilin.” Hua Mei leaned in. “You ever been in love?”

Hina visibly relaxed. “Nope,” she replied, slumping against the rickety wall of the cart.

“Pity. You know, I have a great-nephew about your age,” Hua Mei hinted.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an insufferable busybody?” another of the farmer women piped up. _Wenjing,_ Zuko remembered. She was one of the few farmers traveling alone – a widow, he was pretty sure – and earlier, she’d told a story about a traveling circus that he could only vaguely remember.

Hua Mei was outraged. “Has anyone ever told _you_ that you’re a joyless-“

“ _Enough,_ Hua Mei!” Hongbo snapped, desperate for some way, _any_ way, to get his wife to stop talking before she offended someone enough to get them both thrown out on the roadside. “We’re coming up on our stop in Jizhen-“

“Better get one more story in before we go, then!” she said cheerily, totally ignorant of the appalled stares of everyone in the cart. _She just doesn’t stop, does she?_ Zuko was almost impressed. “You. Boy with Yilin. You her husband?”

“ _No!”_ Zuko would’ve choked on his own breath if he could’ve. “She _just_ said she’d never been in love-“

“Oh, my sweet summer’s child.” Hua Mei leaned forwards to pinch his cheek and for a moment, Zuko was almost, _almost_ tempted to reveal himself so she would _know whose cheek she’d just pinched without permission, thankyouverymuch._ “You really think you’ve got to be in love to get married? Hongbo and I are living proof that nothing could be further from the truth!”

Zuko crossed his arms, unwilling to admit how close to home her words had hit. “Doesn’t mean I’m her husband,” he muttered. “She’s a friend. She asked me to help take her vegetables to market.”

(This cover story, meticulously planned and rehearsed, was the reason he’d had to lug forty pounds of onions around all day. He truly hated this entire thing.)

“Hm. Got someone else in mind?” Hua Mei waggled her eyes again, which was no less terrifying than it had been last time she’d done it.

“Actually, yes, but it’s a lost cause,” he snapped, if only to get her to shut up.

Zuko realized a blink too late that this was the _precise opposite_ of what he should have said if he wanted to give himself any chance of getting Hua Mei off his back.

“Oh, an _unrequited_ love?” Hua Mei gasped, and now even Wenjing looked interested. “Tell me all about it!”

  
Zuko knew he should have kept his mouth shut, but he _did_ relish the chance to rant to someone who he’d never see again, so he hazarded a glance at Hina, as if asking for permission; her answering eyeroll gave him the go-ahead. _Don’t say anything dumb, but whatever,_ it seemed to say. “Well, she’s beautiful,” he started, because it was vague and true and unspecific. “And capable, and courageous. And she’s the most selfless person I’ve ever known, and-“

“Yes, but why did she turn you down?” Hua Mei grinned wolfishly at the promise of juicy gossip. “That’s what _I_ want to know.”

Zuko sighed. “It wasn’t the right time,” he said, genuine regret seeping into his measured tone. “She was needed in…her village…and I had work in Caldera City.”

“So you just let her _go?”_ Hua Mei asked, outraged. “What kind of a spineless wimp-“

“What was he supposed to do, lock her in his basement?” Wenjing fired back. “Will you get off of it, Hua Mei? He was doing the right thing-“

“Giving up on love is _never_ the right thing!” Hua Mei interrupted. (Zuko could see Hina’s smirk out of the corner of his eye and he didn’t appreciate it.) “If this girl is really so amazing, he should’ve fought for her!”

“She had her own life to live,” Wenjing shot back. “I’m just glad this boy had the good judgement to know that instead of trying to force her hand like _you_ clearly would have!”

Hongbo’s haggard “please-help-me” expression returned. “Did you ever tell her how you felt?” he asked wearily, and with that, his wife and her sparring partner were riveted again.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” Zuko sighed. _Really thought I was going to dodge that one._ “And the worst part is that she felt the same way, but-“

“She _did?”_

This time, Hua Mei and Wenjing’s cries rang out in perfect unison, catching the attention of the passengers who’d been trying to ignore their spat.

  
“And you’re still not together?” Hua Mei asked. “But-“

“Look, we were too young, and we were needed in different places,” Zuko sighed. “Do you think I liked it? No! I hated it. I miss her every day. I’d wait decades if it meant she’d stay. But she told me not to wait for her-“

“Oh, you poor _thing,”_ Hua Mei crooned. “To know she feels the same way and still have no hope of a someday with her?” she pressed her hand to her forehead and Zuko was fairly certain by now that she _had_ to be acting this out. “I can’t even _imagine_ the pain!”

Hina’s amused expression faded. “Lay off the theatrics,” she snapped.

“I’m sorry, son,” Hongbo said, his sympathy seemingly genuine. “Must’ve been tough.”

  
“She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met,” he murmured, barely aware that anyone could hear him even though the whole cart was now hanging on his every word. “She could kill me a thousand different ways but she’s always gentle.” He picked at the hem of his rough-hewn agrarian tunic absentmindedly. “She’s protective and capable and hot-tempered and she makes me _want_ to fight her.”

Not even Hua Mei was willing to break the hush that had fallen over the cart. Zuko’s face was open and soft now, his grievances seemingly forgotten as he mumbled Katara’s praises to himself. “She’s got eyes like the ocean,” he continued, “and a heart like fire.”

Wenjing asked. “Because it’s full of passion?”

That had been Zuko’s thought when he’d formed the sentence, but now it sounded wrong. “Not exactly,” he answered, his voice still low and soft. “Because…”

“It burns for you?” Hua Mei leaned forwards, her eyes glinting. Wenjing smacked her arm.

“No, not that, either.” Zuko smiled bitterly to himself. “Because loving her is like trying to get close to that heart even though you know that if she lets you touch it, you’ll end up burned.”

* * *

Dangling her legs off the couch-sized indentation she’d bent into the ice wall and releasing a foggy exhale into the frigid afternoon air, Katara turned her face up towards the sun. She’d been doing that more and more often lately – not looking into the brightness, for she’d burn her eyes, but turning her face upwards, closing her eyes and letting its light and warmth kiss her skin. Even when it barely shone, the gesture was a comfort. It felt as if she were heeding a call, obeying the pull of something she couldn’t quite name.

Her whole _life_ had been defined by things she couldn’t name lately.

Katara wasn’t used to this anymore, a life where she was neatly packed into the boxes others had chosen for her, and she couldn’t pack the feelings raging through her mind into their own neat, labelled boxes either. Vague feelings of longing, twinges of regret, bursts of resentment, sparks of anger, pangs of hopelessness took up every inch of space in her mind, mingling and combining in their shared space until she couldn’t even tell what she was feeling anymore, only that it was never pleasant and never happy and never _right._ She’d helped Gran-Gran with as much as she could, practiced bending katas, sat in on a meeting in which nothing was accomplished and watched as Sokka tried not to burst a blood vessel at the disorganized inefficiency of the whole ordeal –

But none of it had felt real or solid or important. And she’d ended her day as she always did, alone with her thoughts, assailed by feelings she didn’t understand, wishing for a change in her tomorrow that she knew wouldn’t come.

Pressing her gloved hands to the ice shelf and ignoring the growing dampness of the sealskin material as the ice melted beneath her hands, Katara let out another long, visible sigh, and, to no one, posed the question she’d been asking herself since their ship landed.

“What am I doing here?”

* * *

It was mid-afternoon by the time the cart reached Jizhen, unloading its passengers and departing as quickly as it could. Hina and Zuko stumbled from the rickety cart bed onto the half-paved dirt streets of the marketplace, kicking up a cloud of dust as they hit the ground, and brushed straw and dust from their disguises.

“That was some show back there,” Hina said, her tone neutral but her face smirking. “You make that up?”

Zuko glared at her. _Cheeky, insubordinate…I can’t believe I thought she was stoic._ “No, I did _not,”_ he told her. “And I’d thank you never to bring that up again.”

“Not happening, Fire Lord,” she said. “Are you joking? That was _way_ too good to forget about.”

“Hina, it was _personal!_ ”

She stiffened at his outburst, retreating back into her usual coolness. “Right, of course. Sorry.”

  
They walked for a few minutes in silence, picking their way over narrow, rocky roads as they made their way towards the village of Daotian, their destination. Carts couldn’t pass here, so they’d have to make the remainder of the trek on foot; Hina hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d emphasized the isolation of the town’s location. At first, their silence helped them concentrate on their footing, but it soon grew burdensome.

“I wasn’t making any of that up,” Zuko said softly after a few moments.

Hina didn’t look back at him. “That must be hard. I’m sorry.”

“It’s the worst,” he groused. “I try not to think about it, but I do anyway.”

“Have you written to her?” Hina asked. “That would explain your slipping away to read ‘diplomatic reports.’”

“How do you know those aren’t-“

“Zuko, I’m your _Spymistress._ I should hope I’d know what you’re actually doing when you sneak off at odd times to read reports that you’ve never actually received.”

“I probably should’ve known that you didn’t buy that excuse,” Zuko sighed. The sun was beginning to slip below the horizon, casting watery light on the path. Soon it would be dark and their footing even more treacherous, though the distance wasn’t far.

“You also should’ve known that I knew about this girl long before you started waxing poetic about her to total strangers,” Hina replied. “Really, you act as if I wouldn’t notice that your disappearances always coincided with the arrival of letters from the South Pole.”

“Um.”

“It’s that waterbender girl, isn’t it?” Hina’s face was blank but her eyes were alight. Zuko had never seen this mischievous side of her – the _human_ one – and he couldn’t decide if it was more or less horrifying than her default blankness. “The one who trained the Avatar.”

“No comment.”

“Zuko, you can’t keep secrets from a trained operative,” Hina teased. “That’s…oddly sweet, though. That you two liked each other.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Fire and water,” Hina continued, undeterred. “Ooh, I like that! Opposites.”

  
“ _Hina.”_

“I gotta admire you both for staying single, though,” she said. “Good call. Sorry you got your heart burned or whatever it was you said.”

The fact that Zuko _knew_ she remembered every word of that speech, verbatim, made the statement all the more irritating.

“How exactly did we get from ‘hi, I hate your whole family’ to ‘let’s talk about Zuko’s love life’?” Zuko complained, kicking at stray pebbles in the path. “And do you even _know_ what the word ‘professional’ means?”

“Character development?” Hina shrugged. “And yeah. ‘Good enough at my job to get away with pretty much anything.’”

“That is…” Zuko ran a hand through his hair. “Never mind.”

“Hm. That’s what I thought.” Hina’s expression grew thoughtful, though he could barely see it in the fading daylight. “But really, Zuko, I’m sorry. I know I’ve never been in…this position, but I know it has to be hard being without someone you love like this.”

“Thanks, Hina,” Zuko said. “There’s nothing anyone can do about it, but thank you.”

“Well, there is one thing you can do.”

“Hm?” Zuko replied distractedly, his heart leaping into his throat when, in the light of the rising moon, he caught the silhouette of a tiny hamlet tucked far back in the valley. _We can’t be far._

“Fight for it, if you ever get the chance,” Hina said. “Don’t just be content to let it not happen just because _now_ isn’t the right time.”

“She told me not to wait for her,” Zuko pointed out. “That isn’t what she wants.”

“She probably said that because she doesn’t want to tie you down,” Hina sighed, crossing her arms. “Trust me. I know people. And I know that means she’s trying to put your happiness over hers.”

  
“So…she _does_ want me to wait?” Zuko scratched the back of his neck, puzzled. “Then why would she say she didn’t?”

“…you’re kidding, right?” Hina stopped short. “After I _just_ explained it to you?”

“Um.”

“She wants you to be happy, and if you’re not going to be happy without her, then act on it.” Hina shrugged. “Simple.”

“Not really,” Zuko said, though the idea of it – _so she_ doesn’t _not ever want me? –_ was enough to make him feel a little lighter. “But sure.”  
  
“That’s the spirit,” Hina replied. “We’re getting close.”

“Yeah, we are.” The moon hung full and portentous in the sky, casting cold, icy light over the verdant slopes of the valley and the lush rice paddies that covered its floor. A few buildings were tucked back amongst the paddies and Zuko’s heart beat faster with the knowledge that his mother might be in one.

His _mother._ A year ago he’d have thought the idea of finding her like this was ridiculous, and here he was.

“Keep talking,” Zuko instructed as they walked. “If I start thinking about what we’re about to do, I’m going to psych myself out.”

“Of course.” Hina nodded with what seemed like genuine understanding. “About?”

“Anything. Something dumb and mindless,” Zuko said. “I don’t care, just put things in my brain before my brain decides to put the things I don’t want to think about in there.”

“You’re pretty awkward for a Fire Lord,” Hina observed, as if this was not information known by anyone with more than three seconds of Zuko experience. “Um. Let me think. Hmm…oh! How do you feel about ornamental fish?”

She chattered on about ornamental fish breeding, apparently a favorite hobby of the grandfather who she'd lived with for a few years, and by the time she’d finished explaining the morphological differences between Ember Island cichlids and the ones found in the mainland rivers, they’d arrived at the head of the path that wound through the acres of rice fields and scattered buildings of the village. “It’s the one with the red roof,” Hina said, pointing out the house that the person who might be the former Fire Lady Ursa had been seen entering. She reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “We’ve got this, right?”

“We’ve got this,” Zuko repeated, suddenly grateful for Hina’s company. Hand in hand out of nerves, if nothing else, they approached the home and Hina began to knock at the door.

It swung open before the third rap of her fist had fallen.


	4. Rice and Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Hina reach the end of their journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a hottttttt, hot mess, but I love it, so please enjoy this hot mess I'm throwing at you. 
> 
> Also, my approach to writing about Ursa here is, clearly, "SCREW CANON, WE DIE LIKE MEN." I hope this canon rewrite sounds at least a little plausible.

“Who are you, and _why_ are you banging on my door at this Agni-forsaken hour?”

Zuko and Hina exchanged nervous glances as the homeowner, a solidly-built older woman who nevertheless looked like she could take them both in a fight if it came to that, threw her door open in their faces, standing in the doorway with her nightgown-clad arms crossed. _Safe to say that’s not my mother,_ Zuko couldn’t help but think.

“We are so sorry to disturb you, ma’am,” Hina cut in. This was her job, after all; she could handle damage control. “I’m Yilin, and this is Lee. He and I are searching for a missing person and wondering if-“

“Not here, you’re not.” The woman’s face darkened and she slammed the thin rice paper door in their face. “Now get lost before I come after you with a pitchfork and _make_ you regret interrupting my rest!”

“Keiko?” a second voice called from inside the house, a little too far away to be heard clearly. If the footsteps that accompanied it were any indication, though, it was coming closer. “Is everything all right?”

“Get back to bed!” Keiko hissed, and Hina pulled Zuko around to the side of the house, where she wouldn’t see that they hadn’t left. They stood with their backs pressed against the wall, staring out into the darkness, as they listened to the second woman’s retreating footsteps. “Someone’s here for you!”

“She looked terrified when we mentioned a missing person,” Hina whispered. “And the minute that second woman showed up, she sent her back to bed…you know what this means, right?”

“I don’t want to get my hopes up,” he replied, his heart racing. “You heard them, right? Even if it _is_ Mom, there’s no way Keiko’s gonna let us see her.”

“Zuko!” Hina nudged his shoulder. “I mean, My Lord, I’m sorry-“

“Just Zuko is fine.”

“Oh.” Hina’s tense shoulders slumped with relief. “But…Zuko, you _can’t_ give up. Say something to her! Make an excuse! Play the Fire Lord card if you have to! Just don’t let the chance we came all this way for slip away.” She turned to him, and in the pale moonlight, he could faintly make out the tracks of tears in her eyes. “You can’t give up, Zuko. She’s your _mother.”_

“Are you all right, Hina?” Zuko brushed a few falling tears from her cheek with the cuff of his tunic.

“Stop changing the subject,” she said, keeping her voice steady by willpower alone. “You know what you have to do, Zuko. Just _do_ it.”

“It’s not changing the subject, Hina. I’ve never seen you cry before.”

“Look, you know I lost my parents when I was young, right?” she whispered. “Don’t you think that it would make me a _little_ bit emotional to look for yours?”

“Oh.” Zuko dropped back against the wall, leaning his head against it with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Hina.”

“So the idea that you’d come all this way to find your mom and just give up like it’s nothing is…” she paused to compose herself. “It’s _incomprehensible_ to me. You’re the kind of person who _never_ gives up, and here you are, on the brink of the most important thing you could possibly be doing, and you’re _hesitating?_ Do you know what _I’d_ be doing if my parents were in that house?”

“Haven’t you ever considered that maybe this scares me?” Zuko shot back, his voice wobbling around the growing lump in his throat. “What if it’s not her? What if she’s nothing like I remembered? What if she’s disgusted with me, or she doesn’t even _want_ to come home? Hina, I don’t even want to _know_ how much that would hurt. Please, just…” he trailed off, swallowing hard. “I never expected this to come together so fast. I thought I’d have time to process things, but I didn’t, and now I’m just…terrified.”

“The best you can do is keep going,” Hina said, squeezing his hand. “Please, Zuko. I know you probably don’t care about me all that much, so this is a lot to ask, but if you won’t do it for you, do it for _me.”_ She looked away. “Because I’d give anything for this chance, and I’ll never get it.”

He turned to Hina, folding her into his arms, because he knew words would fail him; and she wrapped her arms around him just as fiercely, because protocols and hierarchies seemed so impossibly _irrelevant_ at a time like this that it was all she could think to do. “Thank you, Hina,” Zuko whispered. “I _do_ care. I hope you know that.”

“But why?” Hina asked. “I’m just another official. You’d never hug Maiying like this.”

“I wouldn’t hug Maiying because Maiying would stab me if I tried,” Zuko chuckled mirthlessly. “But…of course you’re not. We’ve spent _weeks_ together planning this trip, and you’ve seen a part of me that almost no one ever has. I know I can trust you, and you were an ally when I barely had any. You don’t know what that means to me.”

“Um.” Now Hina grew stiff again, evidently regaining some of her old composure. “Thanks. Now go find your mom.”

Zuko let her go and nodded resolutely. “I will.” And he made his way around to the door and knocked again, longer and more insistently than he had last time, until Keiko returned to the door.

Keiko had a kitchen knife in her hand when she threw the door open this time. “I _warned_ you, _boy,”_ she snarled. “So I’m giving you _ten seconds-“_

“By the order of Fire Lord Zuko, _tell me if Lady Ursa is here.”_

Keiko’s eyes widened and her face went sheet-white. Zuko almost felt guilty at the stricken expression on her face; he’d always hated using his title that way. But, judging by the way the knife slipped from Keiko trembling hands and she turned tail and ran for the back of the house, it had been precisely what he’d needed to say. He strained to listen to what Keiko was saying but all he could make out was muffled shouting before footsteps plodded down the hallway and the faint glow of a candle could be seen, casting a dim shadow across the floorboards.

  
A moment later, Zuko locked eyes with the second woman, and his whole world froze on its axis.

She was tall and stately and fine-featured, and though she wore her hair loose and a simple cotton chemise in place of the finery of his childhood, it was undeniably Fire Lady Ursa who stood before him.

_“Mom,”_ he breathed, his lungs too small to contain the air he needed to breathe in, and he rushed for her as if he were a frightened nine-year-old again, throwing his arms around her with such force that she nearly lost her footing. Keiko _tsk_ ed _._

But her arms stayed stiff at her sides, and that was Zuko’s first hint that all was not well.

“Zuko?” she asked, her voice nearly inaudible and her body stiff in his arms. “Zuko, why are you here?”

“ _Mom,_ ” was all he could say as he let out a breath he’d been holding for five years.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, and he finally let go, the shock of his first glimpse of her giving way to dismay. “It’s not safe.”

“I came to get you, Mom,” he said, taking her hands. “Father is gone. You can come home-“

“How do I know he didn’t put you up to this?” Tears pooled in Ursa’s eyes and her voice, though strained, was shaded with anger. “It would be just like Ozai to send you here as bait-“

“Mom, he’s _gone,”_ Zuko said forcefully, squeezing her hands. There’d be time for despair later – now he had a job to do. “The war is over. _I’m_ the Fire Lord now. You’re safe, I promise.”

Now she stared at him, peering into his eyes with a little bit of awe mixed in with her fear. “Zuko?” she asked, as if seeing him for the first time, as she reached a delicate, trembling hand out to cup his scarred cheek. “ _You…_ you’re the Fire Lord?”

He nodded, his heart swelling as finally, _finally,_ something he’d said got through to her. “And I want you to come home,” he told her, leaning his cheek against her palm. Her furrowed brow relaxed as she brought her free palm to rest against his other cheek, raising his eyes to meet hers. Ursa laughed, a tiny thing that stuck in her throat, and rested her forehead against his; they stayed there in silence, a quiet moment for all the ones lost to time, before she pulled back, dropping her arms to his shoulders and giving him a once-over.

“You’re all grown up now,” she said softly, tears welling in her eyes.

“Well, not quite,” he replied, his voice wavering as he fought back his own tears. “But…closer than last time you saw me.”

“How did you find me?” she asked, and with the question her joy turned to apprehension again. Zuko’s heart sank. “I was supposed to be safe here…”

“You were,” Zuko reassured her. “But Mom, Father is _gone._ There’s nothing for you to hide from anymore.”

“I…” her face paled. “Zuko, I…can’t.”

“Mom, _please_ ,” Zuko pleaded. “ _Please_ come back with me.”

They stood at an impasse, words exhausted.

* * *

_Dear Katara,_

_  
We found her._

_I know this is probably sooner than you were expecting this news. I was surprised, too, but Hina’s intelligence was accurate, and in the end, finding her wasn’t the hard part. We did that without trouble. The difficulty was really getting her to come with us once we did._

_When we first arrived at the house she’d been staying in, Hina and I were greeted by an angry old woman with a kitchen knife who was mad as can be that we’d woken her up. She wouldn’t tell us anything; I had to play the Fire Lord card, which you know I hate doing, but I couldn’t just give up now that I was so close. And eventually, she relented and let me see her._

_Let me tell you, Katara, that no amount of time could’ve prepared me to see her again._

_She was afraid of me at first. She recognized me immediately, but she thought Father had sent me to lure her out of hiding – convincing her that he was gone, and_ I _was the Fire Lord, proved to be a lot harder than it should’ve been. She didn’t believe it at first, and eventually she seemed happy to see me, but it took some time. And even then, she kept on saying that she had to stay, that she wasn’t safe. I think the fact that we’d managed to find her unfindable hiding place threw her for a loop, and she was really worried that we were going to lead Ozai back to her. She said she wouldn’t come with me._

_I’d imagined so many ways that our reunion could go wrong. Maybe she wouldn’t recognize me, or she’d have heard about me and been disgusted, or maybe she’d refuse to even see me. But I hadn’t thought she’d have become so paranoid since she left the palace that she’d think I was being used as bait. Later, the woman who owned the house, Keiko, explained why, but it shocked me at first._

_Apparently, my mother was always looking over her shoulder. Even though she’d been banished, she was afraid someone would come after her, and as the years went on, she became more and more paranoid. Daotian, the village she was staying in, was so far removed from any major towns that they rarely got news of the outside world, but even when they did, she refused to hear about it – that’s how she got on for so long not knowing that Father was in prison or the war was over. Keiko said my mother was obsessed with her privacy; not even Keiko knew her true identity until I showed up, and they’d been living in the same house for five years. The way Keiko remembers, my mother told her she was running away from ‘dangerous people’ and begged to be hidden, not offering any more details. It made sense – if she wanted to get away from someone, Daotian was the place to do it. It’s tiny, and set back so far in the mountain valleys of the West that, like I said, no one ever comes or goes, save to take their rice to market during harvest time. That’s where the townspeople got their news, but my mother never wanted to hear it._

_So she didn’t know I was Fire Lord, or that she was safe._

_It took two hours of convincing to get her to come with us, and I am relieved not just for my own sake, but for hers. The life she was living in Daotian wasn’t much of a life at all. She didn’t talk to anyone, and she was so afraid of being found that she barely left the house. Keiko lived on a rice farm, but she didn’t work there. I don’t know what she did all those years, but I imagine that being alone with her thoughts for so long while Keiko was out in the fields only made her paranoia and loneliness worse. I hate the thought of her being so alone, and even if I can’t be with her, having her near me is a comfort._

_I missed her so much, Katara. Agni, I missed her._

_She’s warmed up a little since arriving at the palace last week, since now she knows that no one is hunting her. Hina’s made a point to talk to her, for which I’m grateful, and she seems to like her a lot. And, of course, we’ve been catching up since. At first, it was a little awkward, sort of like it was when I first joined you at the Western Air Temple; I wasn’t really sure how to talk to her. Like I did with you, I ended up talking about Uncle a lot. Then when things thawed out a little bit, she told me about Daotian, though there really isn’t much to tell since it’s got twenty people, and I started to tell her about the hunt for the Avatar, and about my time with all of you. All of it – joining you all, that awful Ember Island Players production (she thought the idea of a play about me was_ unspeakably _funny, probably because I left out the part about how we all died at the end), the Southern Raiders, the Agni Kai. ~~You and me in Ba Sing Se.~~_

_( ~~I may have gotten a little carried away, and now~~ she tells me she wants to meet you.) _

_I haven’t told her about my scar yet, though, and I’m not looking forward to that conversation. She’s asked, but I told her it was a story for another time, and she hasn’t pressed it since. I know I need to tell her eventually, but I don’t know how._

_The adjustment hasn’t always been easy. She still looks over her shoulder a lot, and she seems so uncomfortable here that I sometimes wonder if I shouldn’t have convinced her to come back at all. But I hope that things will improve with time._

_Give my regards to your family, as always._

_  
I miss you more than ever,_

_Zuko_

* * *

_Dear Zuko,_

_That’s the best news I’ve gotten in months, Zuko! I’m so happy for you._

Katara sighed, twirling the quill in her hand. “Does that sound too generic?” she wondered aloud, crossing out the words so she could begin again.

_Dear Zuko,_

_~~That’s the best news I’ve gotten in months, Zuko! I’m so happy for you.~~ _ _I’m thrilled to hear that! I hope you’re both doing well._

“Better,” she muttered. “But…eh, screw it.” She set her quill to the paper and began to write, throwing caution to the wind.

_Dear Zuko,_

_~~That’s the best news I’ve gotten in months, Zuko! I’m so happy for you.~~ _ _I’m thrilled to hear that! I hope you’re both doing well. Is she doing any better? I hope she’s realized by now that you’d do anything to keep her safe. I know the adjustment will be hard, but you don’t have to feel bad for bringing her home. It’s not like you forced her to come – she chose to, even if she was on the fence. And besides, you love her, and she loves you, and eventually that’ll be all that matters. I can’t think of a better place for ~~anyone~~ her to be than with you. _

_You told her about Ember Island? Oh, Zuko, you_ would. _I remember you said she used to love them, and I have to wonder how she’d react if she saw The Boy in the Iceberg, minus the part where we all die, of course. Sometimes that play still feels like a fever dream. And she wants to meet me? I’m honored. Book me a ticket on the next ship to the Fire Nation and I’m there. (Sadly, I am joking. I wish I wasn’t, but I don’t think anyone’s letting me leave home anytime soon.)_

_If you ever do tell her how you got your scar, I’m pretty sure she’s going to march down to the prison and stab your father herself, which is the reaction I would have had if you hadn’t held me back. I think you can tell her if you feel like it, but don’t force it out. I’m sure she’d rather you do what makes you feel most comfortable, so if you don’t want to talk about it, don’t. And as to things still being a little weird…I don’t exactly have experience with this, but I’d say to give it time. If she’s been warming up to you, she’ll probably keep warming up as time goes by. Hang in there._

_  
Also, I can still read your cross-outs, Zuko. You’re really not slick._

_~~I like that about you.~~ _

__

_Missing you like crazy,_

_Katara_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There seems to be one thing in each chapter that people like a lot. In chapter 2, The People liked the cross-outs, So I kept that going. I hope you still like them because now it’s an inside joke. :p


	5. News from Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka has news, and Katara doesn't take it well. Ursa and Zuko bond over tea and letters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, but I really really love it, and I hope y'all will too.

“Hey, Katara, could I talk to you?” Sokka poked his head through the doorframe to her bedroom. “I know it’s late, but it’s important.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Katara responded, adjusting her bedroll around her as she sat up. She was a little concerned about what he might need at this hour, but he _was_ leaving for Kyoshi Island at first light the next morning, so she figured he’d probably just been unable to find something he needed to pack.

  
“So, I’m going to Kyoshi Island tomorrow, you know that.” He began to pace, wringing his hands, and Katara narrowed her eyes. _This…is not normal._ “And before I go, there was something I wanted to tell you.”

“Um…are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “You look like you’re about to confess to a crime, Sokka.”

“No, nothing like that!” he rushed to reassure her, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Um. No. It’s about Suki.”

“Sokka, I _swear,_ if she’s pregnant-“

“ _Katara!_ ” Sokka’s horrified expression was _almost_ worth being woken up in the dead of night for.

“I mean, what else was I supposed to think?” Katara shrugged, trying to hold in her laughter. “You announce that you’re visiting Kyoshi Island on a whim, then the night before you leave, you barge in here in the middle of the night insisting you have something important to tell me-“

“I’maskinghertomarryme.”

Katara’s eyes widened. “Um. Slowly, please?” _Am I hearing things or did he just say…?_

Sokka paused, fishing something out of his pocket and walking over to Katara’s bedside to show it to her. “I’m, um…I’m going to…um.” He handed her the object in his hands and she gasped.

“Sokka, you _actually…_ ” was all she could get out as she examined the betrothal necklace he’d handed her. The rich green of its ribbon offset the paleness of the aquamarine pendant and its carving – a pair of fans – was expertly-rendered, far more elegant than she’d have expected given her brother’s artistic skills. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Well…not the carving,” he admitted sheepishly. “I got Dad to help with that. If I’d tried to carve that, it’d be unrecognizable.”

“Well, it’s good that you know your strengths,” Katara said lightly, before she crossed her arms and indignation crept back into her voice. “Now are we gonna talk about the fact that you’re _eighteen_ and you’re trying to get _married_ already?!?”

“Lay _off,_ Katara!” he shot back, raising his hands. “I could’ve been married at _sixteen,_ so it’s not like I’m even that young-“

“But you’ve only been together for a year!” Katara protested. “You can’t base a decision that’ll affect the rest of your life off of _one year_.”

“Life is short, Katara,” Sokka said, his voice lower but just as impassioned. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in the last year, that’s it. You might never get a tomorrow, so if you _know_ something is right, you gotta make that decision _today.”_

“How do you know you’re right about this?” Katara asked, her voice small as the weight of his words sank in. He was right, of course, and she loved Suki; she could think of no better sister-in-law. But staying here without Sokka…

“Sometimes you just know, Katara,” he said softly, turning to leave, and suddenly she couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“Sokka, wait!” she cried, throwing off her comforter and jumping up to catch his wrist as he turned to leave. He turned back around, and she threw her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. “I’m happy for you,” she told him. “I really am. I’m just…scared.”

“Scared?”

“That if you go and make a life for yourself there, I’m going to be left here with no one,” she admitted. “I know it’s selfish-“

“You have Dad, and Gran-Gran,” Sokka said. “And I can’t stay gone forever. _Someone_ has to come back and be chief once you run off to the Fire Nation-“

“Sokka, I am going to stab you.”

He ignored her. “You’re never gonna lose me, Katara.”

“Okay,” she said, though she didn’t feel any better. He still didn’t seem to get the root of the problem, how lost and aimless and _alone_ she’d felt since she arrived here. He was the one person who’d seen how she’d changed and… _knew_ her, not as the girl she had been but as the one she was now.

But she had to let him take his own path, and if this was the right one, she realized with a sinking heart that she couldn’t stop him.

* * *

“It’s changed so much.” Ursa looked down into her teacup, delicately stirring its contents with a silver stirrer. “And yet…not at all.”

“It has,” Zuko agreed, scanning the garden with new eyes – he hadn’t noticed how haphazard it looked in a while, but his mother was right. It no longer looked much like the lush, meticulously-tended garden where they’d come to feed the turtleducks when he was younger. Vines grew over every uncovered surface, and the once-pruned bushes were overgrown now. The delicate bougainvillea that his mother had loved so much was gone. “Father didn’t see the point in keeping the gardener on after…” he trailed off.

So much for pleasantries.

Ursa flinched at the mention of her husband, but she quickly and forcedly regained her composure. “Well, then, you should hire a new one,” she said, her voice cool but unmistakably tight. “Fix up this place, now that we’re using it again.”

“I will,” he said, and they lapsed into silence, unsure what else to say. They’d made a bit of a tradition of this in the weeks since they’d returned – afternoon tea by the turtleduck pond, just as they had always done in happier days. But while there had been catching-up to do at first, now there was silence. The initial emotion of their reunion had abated, and he was at a loss as to how to go forward. Zuko felt like he was walking on eggshells, too scared to speak for fear of mentioning something better left unsaid and making her flinch as she always did when he slipped up. She needed no further convincing of her safety, but so many years of paranoia had left their mark on her; it was best to be careful. So he was all too glad of the distraction when a servant walked into the garden carrying a scroll.

“A letter, for you, Your Highness,” he told Zuko, presenting the scroll. “From the South Pole.”

Zuko’s heart leapt and he didn’t even care that Katara’s latest letter had had the indignity to arrive when there were no meetings to dodge. “Thank you,” he said, a little too eager, as the servant bowed and disappeared. When he turned back to his mother, a sly smile was playing at her lips.

“From the South Pole? Well, that can’t be political, can it?” she teased, laughing when a stiff blush rose in her son’s cheeks. “Why don’t you read it to me?”

“ _Mom!_ ” Zuko almost choked on a sip of tea. “It’s _personal_!”

  
“You’ve never had any problem with reading me letters from your Uncle, or from Aang, and those were _personal,_ too,” Ursa pointed out. “Besides, I’m curious. What’s this admirer of yours up to?”

“It could also be from Sokka,” Zuko pointed out lamely, but Ursa had already made up her mind. And though he wasn’t sure whether it was because he wanted to fill the silence or because the glint in her eyes was so welcome after the glassy-eyed gazes he’d come to expect from his mother, Zuko obliged, unrolling the scroll and beginning to read. _“Dear Zuko,”_ he began.

_I’ve had the first eventful week since I arrived here. Sokka left for Kyoshi Island last week, which I’m going to have to get back to later, because I have a LOT of opinions on that. And Aang just arrived for the visit he kept promising us_.

_Even though I miss Sokka already, I feel better than I have in a long time with Aang around. Things are sometimes still kind of awkward between us when we’re alone, but he makes things fun, and it’s been a while since I actually enjoyed myself. The whole tribe is making a massive fuss over him, which he absolutely loves, even though he’s pretty much confined to sea prunes as far as vegetarian dishes go around here. We went penguin sledding this morning, just for old times’ sake, which seems more and more stupidly dangerous the older I get but is still fun. And it’s been nice having a sparring partner again, since there are no other benders around here to practice on, ~~even though you’d be better.~~_

“Wait,” Zuko stammered, blushing. “I wasn’t supposed to read that aloud-“

“Well, she wrote it, didn’t she?” Ursa’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Yeah, but she crossed it out.” Zuko was almost annoyed by how much she was enjoying his discomfort, which made him happy in and of itself – this was the least skittish she’d been in days.

“Clearly not well enough if you were still able to read it,” Ursa teased. Zuko didn’t feel like explaining the fact that those flirty cross-outs were something of an inside joke by now, so he simply continued reading, his cheeks still red.

_But that’s not the end of my news. Yeah, that’s right, Fire Lord. For once, my boring old South Pole news is more interesting than yours! ~~Jealous yet? You should come see for yourself.~~ So, I mentioned that Sokka was going to Kyoshi Island, right? Well, he sort of decided to take this trip on a whim a few weeks back. Everyone knew he wanted to see Suki, so it wasn’t that surprising, but it still raised a few eyebrows, so I was wondering what was going on with him. _

_  
But I_ wasn’t _expecting him to barge into my room in the dead of night announcing that he was going to propose to her!_

_It’s crazy, right? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Suki, and I’m happy for them, but I felt so…conflicted, I guess. I mean, they’re so young, and it just feels like such a rushed decision. And I know it’s selfish, but I felt like I was going to lose the one real ally that I had here. I mean, I love Dad and Gran-Gran, but no one here really seems to get me anymore. They all still seem to think I’m the fourteen-year-old I was when I left, even though I’ve grown and changed so much. Sokka gets it, though, and that’s why I was worried about this. I thought that if she said yes, he’d go off and build this whole entire other life that I wasn’t a part of. That’s awful, I know. Growing up is supposed to mean moving on and changing, and I should know that better than anyone. But I’m already so lonely here – I don’t know if I could handle it. _

_But I guess I have to, because today we got a messenger hawk from Kyoshi Island, and she said yes._

_  
Part of me couldn’t be happier. I couldn’t think of a better sister-in-law than Suki. But I guess there really is no avoiding this now. He says he’ll have to come back eventually because someone will have to become chief “when you run off to the Fire Nation” – exact words, I don’t know where he gets these ideas from ~~even though I wouldn’t mind~~ – but…_

_  
What now?_

_I’m scared. It sounds so stupid, but if you could send hugs through the mail, I’d ask you for one right now._

_Counting down the days,_

_Katara_

“Looks like you’re going to have a wedding to attend,” Ursa commented, smiling, when he finished reading and rolled the scroll up with sweaty hands. “You know, weddings are a perfect time to make an overture-“

“I will _not,_ ” Zuko coughed, bright-red, “be making any _overtures.”_

“Pity.” Ursa squeezed his shoulder. “I can tell from the way she writes that that girl loves you.”

Zuko nearly spit out his tea.

* * *

_Dear Katara,_

_As I’ve told you, I have tea with my mother most days. As a result of this, she has developed a habit of asking me to read her any letters that arrive during that time._

_Including yours._

_You really need to get better about crossing out things you don’t want me to read now that we’re doing this, because I read one out loud, and now she is insisting that you are in love with me and trying to prod me to ‘make an overture’ (who says that???) at Sokka and Suki’s wedding. ~~Would you be okay with that? Asking for a friend.~~ I can’t remember the last time I was that embarrassed, even if it’s nice to see her a little more animated.  
  
But speaking of Sokka and Suki. I’m sorry, Katara, I really am. Like you said – if I could mail you a hug, believe me, I would. So many people love you, and you deserve to feel like they do. I hate the fact that we’re all separated as much as you do, so I can’t imagine how hard it must be to have Sokka gone, too. But I’m glad to hear that you’re having fun with Aang, ~~even if you’re tormenting him with sea prunes. I would die if you tried to feed me nothing but sea prunes for two weeks~~ , since you really seem like you need it. I know you’ve explained Penguin Sledding to me before, but how exactly does it work, again? It sounds intriguing. _

_On my end, things have mellowed out now that I have my council chosen and my mother is beginning to adjust to palace life again. I’m always busy, but at least I sleep now, which is an improvement. And I have time to have tea with my mother ~~and die inside when I accidentally read your cross-outs, I’m still not over that.~~ Uncle keeps telling me that taking my meals with others will make me appreciate them more or something like that, which sounds unimportant to me, but I’m trying it for Uncle’s sake. Usually it’s just Mom and I, but I’ve asked Hina a few times, too. She is another thing that Uncle got right: he predicted we’d be friends, and it almost feels like we are. Maybe it’s just because she’s about the only person here who I can ask to do anything without getting a thousand “yes, sirs” and a lot of tripping-over of feet, but she’s a breath of fresh air. Insubordinate, yes, but I’m quickly learning that you can’t make friends by following protocol. She and Mom get along, too, which surprises me, since they’re nothing alike. Both of them want to meet you. _

_~~If you ever do ‘run off to the Fire Nation,’ I won’t be the only one happy to see you.~~ _

_  
With mail-order hugs,_

_Zuko_

_Dear Zuko,_

* * *

_You take back what you said about sea prunes. You take that back RIGHT NOW._

_~~You know I have nothing against ‘overtures,’ but Zuko…we can’t. I wish, but we can’t.~~ _

__

_No time to write, but I had to say SOMETHING to the implication that sea prunes aren’t the greatest food there is. I thought I taught you better than that, Fire Lord._

_Offended,_

_Katara_

* * *

_Dear Katara,_

_I’ll take that back when you take back your fire flake slander. Now you know how it feels, hm? Taste of your own medicine, perhaps?_

_In vindication,_

_Zuko_


	6. Relevant to Your Interests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Hina get some concerning new intelligence; Aang and Katara have a heart-to-heart before he leaves the South Pole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really love this story's Aang. He's a sweetheart. <3
> 
> This might be my favorite chapter I've written so far. It has politics, it has heart-to-hearts, it prominently features Hina (SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SIDE CHARACTER WHO APPEARED EXACTLY ONCE AND NOW SHE WON'T GO AWAY), and it starts the lead-in to arc #2! Chapter 7 will be the final chapter of Arc #1, and trust me, it's a Lot. Anyway. Enjoy! 
> 
> ALSO, I've updated this four times in 24 hours. Someone stop me.

In the months since they’d begun to work together, Zuko had learned several things about Hina Oyama that rarely proved to be untrue: she was stoic in professional settings and a merciless tease in personal ones; she rarely laughed but when she did, she’d laugh so hard that her face went beet-red and she had to take in gasping breaths between bouts of uncontrollable giggles; she was as meticulous about the state of her uniform and hair as Azula had been; and she was unerringly punctual. But today, she wasn’t, and Zuko had cause to be worried about that.

  
They’d been meant to start a scheduled briefing about quickly-spreading unrest in a handful of northern fishing towns ten minutes ago, and Hina was nowhere to be found. Normally, he’d chalk it up to something mundane – she simply hadn’t had enough time to get from one end of the massive palace to another, or she’d been caught up with something she hadn’t been expecting to have to do. But when she stormed into his office with her hair falling from its bun and a massive heap of scrolls that overwhelmed her tiny frame in her arms, Zuko realized that such routine explanations probably weren’t going to cut it.

“Spymistress Oyama?” he stood to help her with the scrolls, a few of which were threatning to slip from her hold. “Is everything alright?”

“My apologies, Your Highness,” she panted. _Panted?_ That was strange. Hina was extremely fit; it took a great deal of exertion to wind her this much. “Some courier came in with what he said were urgent reports about the uprising in the north and I couldn’t get away from him.”

“Uprising?” Zuko raised his eyebrows. “I thought it was just some unrest in a few small villages.”

“Well, it _was,_ ” Hina said, frowning. “I think that’s what these reports are about.” She set down the rest of the scrolls, careful not to let them roll off his desk, and fished out two in particular. Wordlessly, Zuko extended his hand, and she passed him one, which he unrolled and scanned.

“The Phoenix Society,” he read. “I’ve been hearing a lot about them lately. They’re responsible for this…uprising?”

“It would appear so.” Hina frowned. “The news of your mother’s return seems to have incensed some of the groups still loyal to Ozai. There’s not much of a direct threat to you with the unrest so far from Caldera City, but you need to be aware that it’s a growing issue and one you’re going to have to face soon.”

“Why do they think their position is being threatened by my mother returning?” Zuko frowned. “She never held enough political power to have much influence, and she isn’t loyal to my father.”

“It might not be entirely that,” Hina muttered, scanning another scroll and nodding before she rolled it up again. “One of our agents picked up a propaganda leaflet some Phoenix Society members were distributing in Gyoson. It’s not included here, but this report says it listed the reparations you agreed to pay to the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes, and the purging of Ozai’s inner circle from the palace, as reasons for their activity.”

“Well, that makes more sense, at least,” Zuko muttered, scanning his own scroll without really reading any of it. “Any idea what this uprising in the north is supposed to accomplish? None of these towns are strategically important, so why stir up trouble there as opposed to here in the capital?”

“There are a couple of possibilities, I’d guess,” Hina replied. “Firstly, they could just be throwing their weight around. The Phoenix Society has never been particularly well-organized so it wouldn’t surprise me all that much if they were just making noise to assert themselves, show that they’re still around, that kind of thing.”

“Which would explain the choice of politically-unimportant towns. They’d want to keep things low-stakes so that they wouldn’t really endanger themselves,” Zuko reasoned. “But it’s not a perfect answer…what else were you thinking?”

“Another theory is that they’re trying to divert manpower from the capital,” Hina posited. “If that’s the case, they’re probably banking on you deciding to send in troops to quell the uprising, which would leave Caldera City – and you, by extension – just a little bit more vulnerable. It’s not as likely, because for that to actually leave you significantly exposed, you’d have to send hundreds of troops in, and the uprising would have to be _massive_ to warrant that. Still, I’ll discuss that possibility further with Minister Liang, since he probably has a better idea than I do of what would actually go into putting down an insurrection like that.” 

“That would explain the propaganda leaflets, and why it’s spreading so fast,” Zuko said. “But still, it would take a long time to build up an insurrection of that scale even at the rate it’s currently spreading. Any other ideas?”

“Well, there is one, but it’s unlikely.” Hina bit her lip in an unusual display of uncertainty. “It’s possible that they’re trying to divert _attention,_ not troops. If they can get enough eyes in Caldera City looking outwards to the north instead of inwards, it would be that much easier for them to do any number of things. Infiltrating the palace staff, accomplishing their own political goals, carrying out assassinations…it’d all be easier if the palace was focused on a rebellion in a no-account fishing province hundreds of miles away.”

“So you’re saying that this could be a distraction?” Zuko asked, his heart plummeting. He’d always known there was great danger in his line of work, and he could accept that, but the idea of an enemy agent slipping into his own home and staff was its own kind of chilling.

  
“Again, I don’t think it’s likely,” Hina said. “That kind of operation requires an amount of finesse and organization that I just don’t think the Phoenix Society is capable of. They’ve always been more brute-force than intellectual. But we can’t discount that possibility.”

  
“Thank you, Hina,” he said by way of a dismissal, too shaken to give any further instructions. “Let me know the minute you have more information.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Hina bowed formally but, as they were stepping into the hallway, placed her hand on his arm. “And…as your friend, off the record?”

“Yes?”

“Be careful, Zuko.”

* * *

“I wish we could trade places sometimes,” Katara sighed.

Though they were lying on their backs and didn’t have much mobility, Aang turned his head to look at her. “Why?” he asked.

“Don’t get me wrong, I know you have a hard job,” Katara said. “I mean…you didn’t even _want_ to be the Avatar, so it probably sounds really ungrateful to say that I envy you, but at least you get to do things that _mean_ something.”

“You don’t have to be the Avatar to do meaningful things,” he said, confused, and for neither the first nor the last time, Katara envied the simplicity of his black-and-white worldview. “You _are_ making change. You’ve been healing people, right?”

“I’m healing sprained ankles and _colds,_ Aang,” Katara sighed. “I mean, I’m glad to be of help, but it’s a pretty big step down from saving the world.”

“Not everyone _needs_ to be saving the world, though,” Aang tried to reassure her. “We need people who’re willing to do the little stuff just as badly.”

“And I get that, I do,” Katara said, her eyes listlessly tracking the patterns formed by the stars above them. “But, Aang…I know what I’m capable of. I know that I can give people so much. I know that I _have._ And you get to _do_ that. You get to live out your potential every single day, and I can’t even imagine how hard that has to be for you, but you’re never confined or held back or told to mend socks when there’s a whole world out there that you could be helping to rebuild.”

“Oh.” Aang shifted. “I guess, if you put it like that, I’d be pretty okay with trading places, too.”

“Really?” Katara rolled on her side to get a better look at him. “My life hasn’t exactly been exciting lately.”

“No, but that sounds pretty good,” Aang admitted. “You get to help people and _see_ how your actions made things better for them. I have to get all bogged down in politics that I don’t understand and help in ways that I’ll never see the results of. And…you have people who love you.”

“So do you,” Katara said softly. She’d never even considered that Aang might be as lonely as she, but…it made sense. He really didn’t ever stay in one place for long. “You’ve got us, no matter where you are.”

  
“Yeah, but it gets lonely,” he sighed. “I might be a nomad, but that doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes want a place to come home to.”

“This doesn’t feel like home anymore,” Katara said. “I love these people, and they love me, but they don’t know me anymore. Aang, I’m just…stuck. And now that Sokka’s getting married, I’ve been feeling pretty alone, too.”

“I feel like telling you that you’re not isn’t going to help, but I’m gonna say it anyway.” Aang raised one of his hands to the sky, absentmindedly tracing constellations with his index finger. “You have your dad and Gran-Gran, and even if we’re not here, you have me and Sokka and Toph and Suki and…” he paused, swallowing hard. “…Zuko.”

“Yeah, but I miss you guys,” Katara said, tears pooling in her eyes. “Honestly, that’s the worst part. I don’t know if I’m feeling so off because I’m not happy here, or because I miss all of you.”

“Me, too,” Aang agreed. “Sometimes I think about when we were traveling together and I just…miss it. It’s weird, because things have never been worse for us than they were while we were on the run like that, but I never felt like _this.”_

“I do, too.” Katara sighed, shifting to try to keep the dampness of the melting ice from seeping into her parka. “I’d give _anything_ to spend a week in Ba Sing Se with Iroh and Toph, or Kyoshi Island with Sokka and Suki, or…” she trailed off, remembering how reluctant Aang had been to bring up Zuko and wondering if she should. She decided to go for it. “In the Fire Nation. Letters just don’t do it for me sometimes.”

“Oh, have you been writing everyone?” Aang asked. “I mean, I’ve gotten a few of your letters, but I know I’m hard to get ahold of.”

“I’d write you more often if your address didn’t change every five days.” Katara stuck her tongue out at him. “But yeah. Sokka’s been wearing out Hawky sending messages back and forth from Kyoshi Island” – he’d decided to stay for a few months following his engagement – “and Toph makes Iroh write down whatever she wants to tell me and send it, and Zuko and I write each other a lot, so…at least we’re in touch.”

“Hey, about that.” Aang cleared his throat and Katara’s first impulse was to _run_ because this would, no doubt, be as earnestly awkward a conversation as she could imagine, but she stayed. “I know you and Zuko…you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” Katara replied. _Does he think we’re together?_ She wondered. “What exactly do you think…?”

“Wait, are you _not_ together?” Aang furrowed his brow in confusion. “I thought…”

“No, Aang, we’re not,” Katara sighed. “I wasn’t going to bring it up, but…no. We decided it wasn’t a good idea.”

“But you had feelings for him, right?”

  
_Kill me, please._ She loved Aang, but this was going nowhere good. “I still do,” she admitted. “And he…well, I _think_ he still has feelings for me. I know he _did._ But, you know…we’re so far apart, right? And so young…” she took a deep breath. “I don’t think it’s a good time for me to be in a relationship with _anyone,_ honestly. I have a lot I need to figure out on my own first.”

“Oh, okay.” Aang leaned back against the ice, bracing his gloved hands behind his head to offer it a little protection from the cold. “I just wanted you to know that I was happy for you. But…I guess that doesn’t really matter now.”

“The thought still counts,” Katara said. “Really, Aang. Thank you. I know it takes a lot for you to say that, and I want you to know that it means a lot to me.”

“’course.” He reached for her hand, and she didn’t pull it back. “That’s what best friends are for, right?”

“Right.”

They fell silent after that, watching the stars blink in the frigid clear of the South Pole night, hands clasped through inches of fur and sealskin. And even if for a moment, Katara felt a little bit more known.

* * *

_Dear Katara,_

_I guess I’ve always known in the back of my mind that being the Fire Lord would be dangerous, especially considering how I got there. There are people who still want my father on the throne, or even Azula, and I know they’ll do anything to get me out of the way, but it didn’t really feel real at first. You know how busy I’ve been; I’ve been so overwhelmed with all the work I need to do that I haven’t had much time to think about opposition to my reign or anything like that. But now I kind of have to._

_About two weeks ago, my intelligence agents started bringing in reports of unrest in a couple of northern fishing villages. They weren’t strategically important, so no one really thought it was necessary to put me on alert, I guess. I didn’t know how bad the situation was until Hina started bringing me reports that that unrest had spread far enough to turn into a full-blown uprising. I’m probably not supposed to be telling you any of this, but I’m the Fire Lord and you’re my best and most trusted friend, so who exactly is going to stop me? Anyway. There’s a group of Ozai loyalists called the Phoenix society who’s claiming to be behind all of this. They’re distributing propaganda to stir up dissent and then using that anger to foment rebellion in the northern coastal towns. None of them are important, which is odd in and of itself. Hina has a few theories about what it might all mean that I won’t get into for…national security reasons, but none of them are good._

_I’m worried, Katara. For the first time since my coronation, I’m actually stopping to think, and I don’t think I’m safe anymore. I wish I could go on ignoring this, but if I want to stay alive long enough to make any sort of difference here, I have to figure out what’s going on and root it out. You know…just another unpleasant result of the legacy left to me by the world’s most spectacular father._

_  
I’ve never missed you more, Katara. Thinking about this has made me realize that if there’s going to be something stuck in my brain for days on end, I want it to be you._

_Love,_

_Zuko_

* * *

_Dear Idiot Fire Lord,_

_You BETTER be staying safe. I swear, if something happens to you because of this, I’m coming to the Fire Nation and throttling you myself._

_(…that’s just going to encourage you to do stupid things, isn’t it.)_

_In all seriousness, Zuko, I’m worried about you. If what you’re saying is accurate, those fishing villages are nowhere near Caldera City, so the fact that you’re still worried about the uprising tells me that this has more to do with you than you’re telling me. What is it, Zuko? I wish you could tell me what’s really happening. It would make me feel a lot better. And I can tell you’re really worried about whatever’s going on because you didn’t cross anything out._

_~~That made me kind of sad. I know you’re just worried, but I missed that.~~ _

__

_I’m sorry you’re having political trouble. On my end, things have actually been a little bit better. Aang’s a week into his three-week visit, and I think I really needed this. I know it’s a little awkward to be talking about ~~a boy who liked me in a letter to the boy I like~~ Aang like this, but he’s my best friend, and spending time with him made me feel happier than I have in a long time. Even though I know that there are parts of me that he refuses to see, he’s one of the only people who really knows me, and I know him, too. We can talk about anything (except you, sometimes…but he brought you up once, and he was nice about it), and he knows when to listen and when to make me go out and have fun to get my mind off whatever is bothering me. Having him around is really, really nice. _

_He said he was lonely, though, and that got me thinking. It makes sense, because he’s never in the same place for too long, but do you think we’re all lonely, in our own way? I know I am, and so is Aang. I’m pretty sure that’s why Sokka is staying on Kyoshi Island, too. And why Toph stayed with your Uncle in Ba Sing Se instead of going back to Gaoling. And, speaking of Uncle, why he hired you a friend as much as he hired you a Spymistress. (No disrespect to Hina intended! She’s great at her job, obviously, and if you’re facing something like an insurrection, I’m glad you have her in your corner. ~~I’m definitely not jealous that she gets to spend every day with you! Why would you ever think that?~~ ) I think, in our own ways, all of us are lonely, missing each other after being together for so long. It’s sad, isn’t it? _

_You better not let anything happen to you before we can all see you again, Zuko. I swear. You matter too much to all of us ( ~~but especially me)~~._

_All my love,_

_Katara_


	7. Moon Peach Buns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An outing takes a turn for the worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know it's going to be nuts when the title is from the To Be or Not To Be soliloquy. 
> 
> Also, GUYS, THIS IS IT: the climax and final chapter of the first arc! I hope you've enjoyed this as much as I have (...clearly, judging by my breakneck writing pace). I may be awful at action scenes, but I tried, so please, sit back and enjoy.

It was still cool when Zuko slipped out of his chambers that morning, a nondescript hooded cloak obscuring his identity as well as he reasonably could. When Hina arrived, wearing bags under her eyes and a soft pink hanfu with white edging, she took one look at his clothes and crossed her arms disapprovingly.

“We look completely incongruous,” she told him, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “If we’re going to convince anyone that we’re not the Fire Lord and his Spymistress-slash-most trusted advisor sneaking out of the palace unguarded, you need to change.”

“Into _what?”_ Zuko protested. “I have _nothing_ that matches your dress!”

Hina crossed her arms. “Regular people don’t _match,_ Zuko. Just wear something that doesn’t look like an ‘I’m sneaking around’ outfit.” She huffed. “Basic spycraft. Blend in. You should really know this stuff.”

Sighing, he retreated back into his chambers, changing into an old tunic and pants that he now used only for training but were still, probably, decent by commoner standards. Hina nodded in approval when he reappeared, delicately twisting the handle of a parasol in her hands. “Better,” she said. “Now what exactly did you drag me out of bed at this hour for?”

(That was one of Hina’s funnier contradictions: she was a taskmaster who could go a day without food and a week without human contact if she had to, but mornings were her undoing.)

“Happy birthday, Spymistress,” Zuko replied, smirking as her mouth fell open. He’d never caught Hina by surprise before, so it felt like an accomplishment.

“ _How-“_

“Uncle gave me a file on you when you started this job,” Zuko explained. “I knew you’d never agree to celebrate your birthday if you knew, so I didn’t tell you. Simple.”

“So what exactly are we _doing_ to celebrate?” Hina tried to look put-out, but she was clearly pleased.

“You mentioned once that you love the moon peach buns at that one stall in the market, but that they always sell out early,” Zuko told her. “So we’re going to stock up before they’re all gone.”

“Zuko, you’re the Fire Lord. I’m sure you could just get them made for you if you wanted.” Hina tried to hide the happy flush in her cheeks but, again, couldn’t.

“Oh, I could, but I also know that you love a challenge,” Zuko teased. “I thought you might have more fun sneaking out.”

“Yeah, I would, but with _you…”_ apprehension crossed her face. “Look, Zuko, I really do like you and all, but you know as well as I do that it might not be safe to be out without a full retinue of guards right now. So as sweet as this is, as your Spymistress, I can’t accept.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Zuko replied, “which is why I brought backup. Mori?”

A burly man dressed in nondescript browns stepped through the doorway. “Am I needed, Your Highness?”

“Tell Hina here that we’ll be fine,” he said, smirking in Hina’s direction. _Gotcha._

“I’ve been instructed to accompany you and Fire Lord Zuko to the marketplace, Spymistress,” Mori said. “I can assure you that I am capable of attending to your security myself.”

  
“ _One_ guard?”

“Hina, _moon peach buns.”_

“Zuko, _national security.”_

They stared at each other for a moment, eyes locked in combat, and for once, Hina was the first to blink. “ _Fine,”_ she huffed. “Let’s go get those moon peach buns.”

* * *

“Do you even know where we’re going?”

Ten minutes into the market, Hina stopped and stood in front of Zuko, facing him with her arms crossed. The were attempting to wind their way through the labyrinth of stalls with little success; this was quite natural, as Zuko had never actually _been_ to the baker’s stall they were searching for.

“Um. No,” Zuko admitted, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Do you?”

“Of course I do, idiot,” Hina huffed. She grabbed his hand and began to drag him through the stalls, tables full of fruits, barrels of spices, loaves of bread, stacks of vegetables, and bags of nuts and dried produce whizzing by in their peripherals as she made turn after turn. “I thought you must know some secret back way or something, since you _insisted_ on leading. Evidently you don’t.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me how to get there?” Zuko sighed, picking up his pace to match hers.

She turned back to him and grinned cheekily. “Because I’m your subordinate, of course.”

* * *

They reached the bakery stall ten minutes later to find that a line had already formed, snaking around the nearby booths. Evidently this baker was known for more than just the buns they’d come for, as Hina explained while they waited, and his baked goods – reputed to be the best in the city despite the unlikely location in which they were sold – were in great demand during festival season. With the Harvest Festival a little over a week away, people were lining up to get their holiday treats already: some thought it was worth a little staleness in their sesame rolls and moon peach buns to avoid the mind-numbingly long lines that formed once the festival was days away and those who’d procrastinated had no choice but to rush for the market.

“We’d have these for every Harvest Festival when I was young,” Hina explained. “On the first morning, most families would already be celebrating together, so my father would let my mother and I sleep in and come here at the crack of dawn to get the first peach buns out of the oven with virtually no wait.” Her sharp features seemed to soften as she reminisced. “They’d still be warm when we got them.”

“What do they taste like?” Zuko asked, aware only after the fact what a strange question that was.

“Well, you know what a moon peach tastes like,” Hina replied, moving up a few spots in line as the gaggle of middle-aged women at the front took their purchases and left. “Now imagine bread that has that flavor. Like, the best bread you’ve ever had. Bread that’s fluffy and chewy all at the same time.”

  
“That does sound good,” Zuko said. “But is it wait-in-a-three-hour-line good?”

  
She swatted his arm. “This was _your_ doing.”

(He didn’t need to look too carefully to see the silent _thank you_ etched in every line of her smiling face.)

* * *

“Next customers!” the woman working the counter hollered, and Zuko and Hina stepped to the front of the line. Scanning a display of pastries with cards of neatly-etched calligraphy naming each type, Hina’s eyes lit up.

_Interesting,_ Zuko observed. _She has a thing for sugar._

“You go ahead and order,” he told her. “Get whatever you want.”

“Hmm, okay…” she glanced over the pastries and made her decision in a split-second. “One steamed bun, one custard tart, two sesame balls, and four moon peach buns.”

“Two custard tarts, actually,” Zuko amended as the woman began to bag up their requested treats from shelves that were already depleted an hour past dawn.

Hina smirked. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a custard-tart guy.”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a moon-peach-bun girl,” he shot back, pulling out one of the peach buns and taking a bite the moment they’d paid. Hina reached for another but waited to take a bite, observing Zuko’s reaction first.

“Oh, _Agni,_ that’s good.” Zuko’s eyes widened as the flavor burst on his tongue, all the sweetness of moon peach infused in the lightest, fluffiest dough he’d ever tasted. His eyelids fluttered shut as he savored the pastry, Hina watching the whole time with a knowing smirk.

“Told ya,” she said, taking a bite out of her own bun. “Thank you. Really.”

“Of course,” he told her as soon as he’d swallowed his last bite. “You had every reason to hate me when you got here, but you’ve been a good friend. It’s the least I can do.”

“Yeah, I thought I was going to despise you at first,” she admitted. “I mean, how could I _not?_ But then…”

“Yeah?”

Hina grabbed a sesame ball from the bag and popped it in her mouth before she continued. “You assigned me to your mom’s case. I hated that assignment at first. Wanted to be making real, lasting change, all that. But…soon I started seeing the value in it.”

“I could tell.”

“I think at first, I was just thinking about my parents,” she said in between bites of yet another pastry. “How I needed to do a good job because I’d have wanted the same thing if our roles were reversed. But I mostly came around because being on that job helped me to see your human side, I guess.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I realized you weren’t like your father, and _then,”_ she grinned, “I realized that you were also just a massive dork running around in fancy clothes. And what’s not to like about that? Easy joke fodder!”

  
“That’s some way to talk about your _sovereign,”_ Zuko teased.

Hina jabbed an elbow into his side, her expression shifting from mirth to horror in seconds. “ _Not in public!”_ she hissed.

  
“Oh, right.” Zuko cringed. “Sorry.”

“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Hina muttered, throwing a glance over her shoulder only to freeze in shock. “ _Wait.”_

Instinctively, Zuko reached for Hina’s arm. “What is it?”

Her eyes frantically scanned the room. “Mori,” she whispered. “He’s _gone.”_

“No, he isn’t.” Zuko relaxed. “He was just supposed to look like he wasn’t tailing us.”

“I’m a _spy._ I know what it looks like when someone’s trying not to look like they’re following you, and _this_ is not that.” Hina’s tone pitched higher and higher as her frantic glances around the market grew more frantic. “Zuko, I think someone wanted him out of the way.”

“ _What?”_ Zuko’s voice dropped.

Instinctively, Hina threw her arm across Zuko, shoving him behind her. “Get back,” she hissed, glancing around for signs of life – witnesses, vendors, _anyone._ And she found none. The area had cleared out like a shoal of fish at the approach of a shark. “Don’t panic, but I think we might be cornered.”

“We _what?”_

“Zuko, do exactly as I tell you,” Hina said slowly, the raging panic of the past minute morphing into stone-cold determination. “When I tell you to-“ she cut herself off abruptly and turned at the sound of rustling behind her.

And she turned a second too late.

“ _Zuko!”_ she cried, not even bothering to conceal his identity anymore as a man twice his size grabbed him by the collar of his training tunic. Blindly, she ran towards them, brandishing the knife she always carried for protection, but she stopped short, hesitating, when she saw the dagger in his hands.

“It’s about time,” the man cackled, dropping Zuko and holding the dagger aimlessly out in front of him. _He’s totally incompetent,_ Hina realized. _This wasn’t their plan. This man encountering us was nothing more than a lucky break._ “I can’t believe my luck. The Fire Lord, exposed and in public with only one guard? You and that incompetent guard of yours – Agni rest his soul – truly make it too easy.”

Making a scene wouldn’t help them. Clearly this man, whoever he was, had no good intentions for Zuko, but he didn’t seem to have seen Hina, so wrapped up as he was in his attempt to intimidate Zuko before going in for the kill.

_Surprise._ She could use that.

Concealing herself behind a merchandise rack in a tent of bright-colored sarongs, Hina bid her time, waiting for the man to angle himself right. And when he did, Hina charged, making for the base of his neck. In her head she heard the voice of the old Liberation League colleague who’d taught her everything she knew about this: _go for the base of the neck. If you can sever the spinal cord, it’s all over._

And she drove the knife into the man’s neck as she’d planned to but so did he, and not before he had the chance to utter the words “long live the Phoenix King” and Hina swore that Zuko’s whimper – not a scream, just a whimper, the resigned cry of a man who’d been expecting such a fate since the day he was born – would haunt her for the rest of her days. 

When the assassin fell, the knife in his hands, still held in his iron grip, left a gaping wound where it had pierced flesh, and Hina had to bite back bile at the red blooming on Zuko’s already-red tunic, bleeding into its gold edges. But she couldn’t give in. There might be others – other Ozai loyalists who’d know their fallen colleague had fallen, who’d finish the job if they didn’t get out of there.

“Can you walk?” Hina asked Zuko, who was still too stunned to speak. He nodded mutely before collapsing against her shoulder and, in a split second, she heaved him over her shoulder, depleting every ounce of strength in her body as she dragged his dead weight to the entrance to the marketplace. Scanning the place for potential exit strategies, she spotted an ostrich horse hitched to a post and threw Zuko’s limp body over the saddle, climbing on herself and unhitching the animal.

(She had no regrets. He could barely move, and theft was preferable to allowing someone to commit regicide.)

“Hang on, Zuko,” Hina said through gritted teeth as she urged the ostrich horse onwards through the streets to the palace.

* * *

Hina’s eyes were bloodshot by midnight, when the physician finally closed the door to Zuko’s chambers – she hadn’t been allowed in, to her endless ire – and stepped into the room where she waited in an armchair, every nerve on edge. “Is he stable?” Hina peered up at the physician with eyes that held no trace of their usual composure. “Or will he be?”

The physician looked as uneasy as she felt. “Well, we’ve been able to stop the bleeding,” he said, “but…other symptoms are manifesting themselves.”

“Other symptoms?” Hina had half a mind to grab the man by his shoulders and give him a good, solid shake-down. Now was not the time to beat around the bush.

(Not when her friend was dying because he had been sweet and she had been stupid. Not when an assassin too incompetent to pose a threat when Zuko was under guard had been given a chance at offing the biggest threat to his group’s agenda that even he couldn’t bungle, because of _her._ Not when it was all her fault.)

“Ones that aren’t consistent with a stab wound,” the physician explained. “It could be an infection, of course, and that would be the best-case scenario. But we fear that the wound is too fresh for that to be the case.”

“Then what is it?” Hina’s urge to grab his shoulders and shake him down had only grown.

“We fear the blade may have been poisoned.”

“ _Poisoned?”_ Hina’s stomach dropped. “With what?”

“We don’t know,” he said. “But it is likely an extract – derivative of the common fire lily – that is commonly used in homicides. It doesn’t seem like this assassin was particularly sophisticated, and that toxin is relatively widely-available-“

_Fire lily extract._ The Liberation League had carried out assassinations using that same toxin. The irony wasn’t lost on Hina.

“It has no known antidote,” she muttered to herself, the room beginning to feel like it was spinning around her.

“We will do all we can, but-“

Hina shot out of her chair, tears staining her face. “You _cannot_ let him die!” she shouted, grabbing the physician’s collar. “Think of this country – think of his _mother!_ Do _you_ want to have to be the one who tells Ursa that her son is dead?” She set him down but her white-hot rage hadn’t abated. “It sounds to me like you’re just giving up, and I’m _not_ going to accept that! You _have_ to-“

“Spymistress Oyama, there is _no known antidote,”_ the physician repeated tiredly. A nurse poked her head through the doorway, likely wanting to know what all of the commotion was about.

“But there _is_ someone who might be able to fix this,” the nurse said softly. She turned to Hina, resolve in her eyes. “You may not remember, Dr. Feng, but there _is._ Spymistress Oyama, can you prepare a messenger hawk?”

Her anger decrescendoed at the suggestion – that there might still be a solution, that all hope wasn’t lost – and she nodded. “What do you want me to say?”

“Send an urgent message to the South Pole,” the nurse said. “Tell Lady Katara of the Southern Water Tribe that she is needed in the Fire Nation.”

* * *

Something deep in the pit of Katara’s stomach sensed trouble the moment she saw the unfamiliar messenger hawk circling overhead.

She and Aang had been eating lunch, sitting outside to escape the endless chatter of the group gathered inside, and it had been impossible to miss against the clear-cloudless sky. Even more telling had been its choice to land on Katara’s outstretched forearm. It was a magnificent bird, huge and elegant and powerful and clearly the property of someone high-ranking.

_Zuko,_ she realized, her stomach twisting with dread. _It has to be Zuko._

This couldn’t be good. Zuko would never send a hawk like this unless it were urgent – he always sent his letters through the traditional mail system. She and Aang both seemed to know it, and they shared a worried look before she plucked the message from its talons and unrolled it.

And her heart fell, fell, fell and kept falling, down through the ice below her feet and all the way to the ocean floor when she read the message inside.

_Fire Lord Zuko gravely ill. Poisoning. Please come quickly – no known antidote._

The message dropped from Katara’s trembling hands as she sat frozen in shock, and Aang knew better than to ask. He simply picked up the paper and read its contents, a similarly horrified expression crossing his own face before turning to resolve.

“Get a bag, Katara,” he said, pure determination on his face. “I’ll saddle Appa. We’re leaving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow morning, I'll be starting Arc 2: Words Unspoken, in which we'll get fun things like reunions, Sokka and Suki's wedding, Things Said While Drunk and Never Brought Up Again But Often Pondered, and how exactly Ursa feels about her husband's devotees trying to off the last non-evil member of her immediate family. I've never felt more inspired to write than I do right now, so I hope you're all enjoying this wild ride! Thank you all so much for reading!


	8. Whatever It Takes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the attempt on Zuko's life, Katara rushes to the Fire Nation to assist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, folks! The beginning of Arc 2! :)))) I'm super excited for this one. Reunited, and it feels so good...
> 
> Lots of tenderness here, because SOMETHING had to assuage the slow burn, right?

For the first few hours of their trip, neither Aang nor Katara could say much. Aang stared listlessly into the distance as he steered, and Katara sat stock-still, her eyes wild with worry and her back ramrod-straight, until she grew too tired to hold herself up like that and slouched against the side of the saddle, turning on her side to lay her head against it.

Then they found themselves migrating closer to each other just for the comfort of human touch, and their hands found their way together and grabbed on tight. They cried together a few times; Aang tried to reassure her that Zuko was too stubborn to go down without a fight and Katara cried into his shoulder, never saying so but terrified the whole time at the thought of a world without him. Both had bags under their eyes by the time they arrived in the Fire Nation from the night without sleep, though Katara thanked Tui and La profusely that Aang had been here when this happened since without Appa, their trip would’ve taken weeks.

When they arrived, a servant greeted them at the gates, barely even dispensing the usual formalities before ushering them inside as quickly as she could. She needn’t have worried; Aang and Katara were practically sprinting down the halls the minute they entered. No one even turned; protocol was the furthest thing from anyone’s mind today. Katara panted with some combination of exertion and bone-deep exhaustion by the time she reached the room the woman had mentioned that Zuko was being treated in but she was ready to throw that door off its hinges if she had to-

_“Please.”_ Cold hands reached out to clutch at her shoulders right before she entered, and Katara nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned to face the person who’d grabbed her, a fine-featured older woman in delicate plum-colored robes. Her face was raw and red from what had no doubt been a night of crying to rival Katara’s, and her expression showed as much desperation as Katara felt as she grasped her shoulders. “You have to save him.”

  
“I’m going to do my best,” Katara said as evenly as she could, prying the woman’s hands from her shoulders as she began to wail. Servants rushed to the scene, and Katara did her best to shoo them away so the woman could be alone, but there was little she could do. (She’d never forget the desperation on that woman’s face as long as she lived.)

And then she threw the door open and in three strides, she was at Zuko’s side.

In another life, in another world, this moment would’ve been wonderful. This was the first she’d seen of Zuko in two years and on another day, the sight of the face she’d loved in silence and missed so dearly would’ve been the greatest joy she could imagine. But now that face was sallow and sickly, sweat-slicked and burning as she took a seat at his bedside and reached out to cup his feverish cheek, hand trembling like a leaf in the wind. The servants gave them a wide berth as, for a moment, she simply sat and stared, watching the shallow rise and fall of his chest and cupping his face as if her palm contained universes.

“Zuko,” she breathed out, something between a prayer and a plea. “I’m here. I’m going to help you.”

  
She leaned forwards to press her lips to his sweaty forehead, a gesture that seemed all but necessary right now, before she bent the water from her waterskin and pulled back the covers to reach the wound in his shoulder. Katara tried not to wince at the sight of the place where the assassin’s knife had inexpertly pierced him as she bent the water across the area, reconnecting as much of what had been severed by the knife as she could. Even so, it would scar – another for his ever-growing collection, Katara thought bitterly – but he’d be in a little less pain, at least.

But that would be the easy part.

“Dr. Feng?” Katara called after a moment. He made his way to Zuko’s bedside, peering down at her.

“Yes, Master Katara?”

“What was the poison you think the assassin used?” she asked.

  
“Fire lily extract, Master,” he said. “Slow-acting, no known antidote-“

“I know what fire lily extract is,” Katara muttered, trying to use the fresh water from the basin that a servant had carried in for her to gauge how far the poison had spread. “How long has it been?”

“About fourteen hours,” Dr. Feng replied. “Usually, the toxin causes the paralysis that precedes death in about twenty-four.”

_Ten more hours and I would’ve been too late._ Katara shuddered. “The poison managed to spread further than I’d thought,” she said, trying and _trying_ to keep her tone professional, because she had a _job_ to do and that was why she was here.

  
(Because she’d been summoned, and not because the love of her life was at death’s door. She had to remind herself of that.)

“Can you heal it?” Dr. Feng asked. “Or at least bend it out?”

“I…” Katara closed her eyes to concentrate, trying to find something, _anything_ she could do and coming up short. “I don’t know.”

“Master Katara, if I may, you are his _last_ hope,” Dr. Feng said, his voice hushed. “If you can’t do anything, we’re as good as abandoning him to his fate.”

“Don’t you think I’m _trying?”_ suddenly the professionalism that had held her back was of no concern. “I would do _anything_ if I thought it would help him, but I don’t-“

_Wait._

“I’d do anything,” she muttered, fear and frustration and anger and sadness and _pain,_ so much pain, turned to stony resolve. “Even the thing I told myself I would never do.”

  
“Master?”

“I take it back,” she said, rolling up her sleeves and placing her hands on his bare chest if only to ground herself, remind herself that he was still here. “I know what I can do.”

Once, she’d have been outraged at the mere idea of this. But she had a life to save, and maybe, just maybe, if she could do it, this curse of hers would redeem itself.

So, with every ounce of strength in her exhausted body, she focused and grabbed hold of the blood in his veins, separating poison from plasma. It was easier than it should’ve been; all the blood he’d lost kept his body from resisting the pull of her bending the way it normally would’ve. But bending blood was never without struggle, and her brow creased in concentration as she bent the toxin from the blood and into the basin beside her.

Though it hadn’t taken long, the effort left her drained, and, with a muffled sob that sounded more like one of defeat even in victory, let her head fall, burrowing against the chest that now rise and fell evenly.

“Master Katara?” Dr. Feng asked after a moment of shocked silence.

“Yes?”

“Is it gone?”

She raised her face to glare at him. “Yes, it is, but he’s still lost a lot of blood, so he’s going to be very weak,” she said, her glare not leaving her face for a moment. “Now can you _also_ be? Because you’re raising my blood pressure, and after the day I’ve had-“

“You can’t give me orders!” Dr. Feng cried, outraged. “I-“

“No, but I can.”

Katara turned at the sound of a voice in the doorway to see three figures standing there: a petite woman, the one who’d spoken, with determine etched in every line of her face; the woman who’d grabbed her outside the door; and Aang.

“Spymistress Oyama,” Dr. Feng said tiredly. “I see you’ve come back already.”

“Couldn’t stay away.” She marched into the room stood in front of him, arms crossed and feet planted. “And maybe you think you don’t take orders from Master Katara, but if you know what’s good for you, you’re gonna shut up and take mine.”

“Spymistress-“

“Good luck playing the rank card on the Fire Lord’s most trusted advisor,” she spat.

“Or the Avatar,” Aang piped up. Katara almost laughed; the incongruity of seeing Aang comply with this woman’s intimidation tactics would’ve been amusing on any other day.

The other woman raised her tear-stained face. “Or the Fire Lady Dowager.”

_Fire Lady Dowager?_

“You’re…” Katara gestured to her with shaky hands. “You’re Zuko’s _mother?”_

“And you’re Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe,” she replied, as awed as Katara had been. “And you-“

“Saved his life.” Spymistress Oyama turned from Dr. Feng, who finally took the hint and fled from the room, to Katara. “And I can’t thank you enough.”

“I…” Katara trailed off, unsure how to continue. _I love him? I was doing what anyone would’ve done? Sorry you had to find out this way that I’m a bloodbender?_

The Fire Lady Dowager – _Ursa, right?,_ Katara thought, unsure but pretty confident that was her name – approached, pressing her hand. “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances,” she said, “but I see now that my son wasn’t exaggerating when he told me that you’re the most extraordinary person he’s ever known.”

“He said that?” Katara’s cheeks flushed.

“Among other things,” Ursa said, smiling through her tears.

“Yeah, he never shuts up about you,” Hina agreed. “But…thank you. We all owe you a debt.”

Katara wouldn’t meet their eyes. Her hand still rested against his chest and something illogical in her though that his heart might stop beating if she moved. “Who did this?” she asked, as much to change the subject – she hated hearing herself praised sometimes – as out of real concern.

  
“An Ozai loyalist, it seems,” Spymistress Oyama said. Katara was amazed at her ability to flip a switch from worry to gratitude to this businesslike demeanor so quickly. “We don’t know which of the relevant splinter groups he belonged to, but we have an idea.” 

“Can you fill me in on that?” Aang asked, speaking for the first time since they’d all arrived and putting his hand on Spymistress Oyama’s shoulder to guide her out of the room. “Master Katara needs to rest.”

_Thank you,_ she mouthed, finally feeling the full force of the exhaustion in her bones. Aang nodded back as the three left the room, leaving only Katara and a few servants who took one look at the two and left.

Exhausted, Katara let her head rest against Zuko’s uninjured shoulder. One of her arms found its way around his neck and grabbed hold of her other hand, encircling him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she whispered.

  
And, to the lullaby of his heartbeat, sleep claimed her.

* * *

  
Zuko’s head was pounding and his shoulder was throbbing and every inch of his body was oppressively, inescapably hot. Everything felt wrong and the reason why was but a fuzzy memory as he awakened, his fever broken but barely abated and his body so weak he could scarcely move.

But that wasn’t what he cared about.

Every symptom he felt utterly paled in comparison to the realization that, when he’d awakened, it had been eyes like the ocean that met his, and a heart like fire broken in two that was written clearly on the face that he’d seen every night before he slept since he came here. She’d not said a word when he woke, simply raising her head from the place where it rested against his chest (he already missed its comforting weight there) and holding his eyes in her own, tears pooling against blue as she pulled him against her, murmuring sweet, soft words that sounded like reassurances and warnings all at once.

“Katara?” he croaked, his voice groggy, and he hated himself a little bit for being rendered so incapable of speech at the sight of her. But he couldn’t even blame himself, not when the sight of those eyes after so long made pain an afterthought.

He knew before she said a word that this girl who put light in his heart and electricity in his veins had saved him yet again, and he barely had the presence of mind to be overcome by the heady emotions that always accompanied her. Instead he captured those ocean eyes in his own, held them as he took her hand and slowly, slowly pulled it to his lips and ghosts them across the back of her knuckles, holding the ends as gently as he could manage as he pressed as many kisses to the hands that healed him as he needed to thank her for the heart that beat both for and because of her. 

(He pressed that hand to his heart so she could feel its pulse and his message was clear: _because of you_.)

“Thank you,” he rasped, still not releasing her eyes. “

“You _idiot,_ ” Katara sobbed, falling forwards against him and knowing he’d catch her. He wrapped his arms around her weakly where she’d fallen against him, pulling her so close that she sank into him as her chest and shoulders shuddered. “You could’ve been killed, and for _what?_ Moon peach buns?”

“So Hina told you,” he sighed, reaching up to run his fingers through her hair. He didn’t miss the way her breath hitched when his nails grazed her scalp.

“You can’t _do_ that, Zuko!” Katara nuzzled her face even further into his shirt. “You have an entire _country_ that needs you now. Not to mention all the people who couldn’t live without you-“

“There really aren’t that many of those.”

“How could you _say_ that?” Now Katara was outright angry, pulling back and pushing him back against the pillows so he couldn’t look away from her. “Your mother looked like she was ready to follow you into the grave when I got here, and Aang and I didn’t even tell anyone where we were going before we left because we _had to get to you,_ so if you start hearing reports that the Avatar’s gone missing, _that’s why_ , and _no one_ would have any fun at Sokka and Suki’s wedding if you’d just _died,_ and do you _really_ want Iroh to lose another son?” she was breathing hard. “And for _moon peach buns?”_

“It was Hina’s birthday!” Zuko protested, his face nonetheless tellingly flushed. Her face was inches from his now and if his desire to stay alive had been a little weaker, he’d have closed the gap between them.

(But he’d probably get slapped if he tried that now, so he did not.)

“You idiot,” Katara muttered again. “You stupid, thoughtful, impulsive, sweet, self-effacing _idiot.”_

“Self-effacing?” Zuko would’ve laughed if his heart hadn’t been going a mile a minute. “You must _really_ be mad.”

“I _am,”_ she snapped. “I almost lost you, Zuko. I’m mad at whoever did this, and I’m mad at stupid Dr. Feng, and I’m mad at _you_ for being dumb enough to get yourself into this mess, and I’m mad at myself for staying away for so long. I’m so mad I don’t even know what to do with it, Zuko.” Katara’s hard expression crumpled as she began to cry again. “You know what’s the worst part?”

“Hm?”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before she continued. “If I hadn’t gotten here in time, the last words I ever would’ve said to you were ‘don’t make it harder for me to say goodbye.’”

Zuko had been trying to avoid sitting up for fear of reopening the wound she’d so meticulously healed, but he couldn’t stop himself anymore and he sat bolt upright, crushing her into an embrace that belied his depleted strength. He pressed his cheek to her hair and wrapped his arms tight around her waist, pulled her shaking body closer than close, held her until neither knew where one began and the other ended. Soon he felt tears well up in his own eyes, and they cried together – for lost time, for near-misses, for missed opportunities and all the days they’d spent wishing for this reunion, never suspecting that when it came it would be for such a reason as this. He pressed kisses to her hair, freed one of his hands so that he could brush back the curtain of hair falling into her eyes and kiss her forehead; she turned to press her forehead against his scarred cheek.

It was every “I love you” they’d left unsaid encompassed in a single embrace and neither thought they’d end up complaining if they stayed like this for the rest of their natural lives.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered after a few silent moments of drinking her in. _I_ love _you so much,_ he wanted to add, but he wouldn’t risk ruining the moment. “Every single day you were gone.”

“That’s a lot of days,” Katara sniffled. She pulled back a little, her eyes as bright and inviting as the sea on a summer afternoon and her smile like home. _She could hold universes in that smile,_ Zuko thought absently, brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek. She reached for him, holding his face in her palms with all the relief of a sailor taking her first steps on land after months on the ocean. “I know because not a single one went by that I didn’t think of you.”

“Stay,” he rasped, suddenly overwhelmed, and lifted the covers to allow her in; Katara nodded. It was not a confession, nor an admission of anything but the earnest affection she felt for him, but it felt like one all the same.

“For as long as you need me to,” Katara replied, accepting his invitation and crawling into the sheets beside him. It was a gesture she’d have shied away from under any other circumstances, but now it felt necessary.

He didn’t have the heart to tell her that that meant _forever._


	9. Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko has a request for Katara; Ursa is all of us; Aang and Hina talk things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one kind of just wrote itself. The only thing about this that is consistent with my outline is Zuko's conversation with Ursa, which is the shortest part, and the other 3k ish words just...came up with themselves. Seriously. I did not plan for any of the plot points that invented themselves here. WE LOVE SPONTANEITY. 
> 
> This might be my favorite one yet, y'all.
> 
> Also, to clarify: at the beginning of this story, Zuko is 18 (as are Sokka and Suki), Katara is 16, and Aang is 14. By this time, Zuko is 19, Katara is 17, and Aang is 16 (let’s just say he has an earlier birthday? Idk). It has now been about a year and a half since the war ended. Hope that clarifies things.

Every inch of Zuko’s body was exhausted and at least half of them were in near-unbearable pain. Nevertheless, he concluded that he could get used to this.

“Hey, Katara?” he asked, his voice coming out a weak rasp but audible nonetheless. Katara looked up from the spot where she was massaging her healing water over his shoulder, her face shifting from concentration to attention. He couldn’t help but notice that the inquisitive tilt of her head was impossibly pretty, and there was a brightness in her eyes that didn’t quite fit the image she’d painted in her letters of the lost, lonely girl struggling to find her way. 

Yes, he could _definitely_ get used to this. He’d been stabbed, she’d had the scare of her life, they were _both_ bone-tired…but he couldn’t remember the last time he was happier, and she seemed to feel it, too.

“Mm-hm?” she asked, bending the water back into the basin before turning from the place where she knelt on the bed next to him to flop on the pillows. She propped herself up on one elbow, angled towards him.

“How long are you planning to stay?”

Katara’s face fell, though she tried not to let it show. It wasn’t effective – she’d always worn her heart on her sleeve. “Just as long as you need me,” she said, and, anticipating the inevitable cheeky reply about staying forever (she truly knew him too well), added, “to heal. So…until you’re better.”

“You could always stay a little longer, you know,” he said, turning to her. “There’s always something you could do around here. Our social services haven’t really been great since the war.”

“Zuko…” Katara shook her head. “I would love to, but I can’t.”

Something seized in his heart at the thought of her leaving so soon, so even though he knew it was pointless to try to change her mind, he tried again. “You’re not happy, Katara,” he said, reaching out to take one of her hands. She let him, though her expression was hesitant. “I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but your letters-“

She turned his hand over in hers, absently tracing its lines and curves. “You’re not,” she said softly. “I wasn’t.”

“And I’m not saying I know you’d be happy here,” Zuko said softly. “But maybe you could use the change of pace.”

“I could,” she admitted. “I just don’t think I should leave my family like that. Not when Sokka’s already gone.” 

“You’ve said there’s nothing for you to do there a thousand times, Katara,” Zuko pleaded, trying to focus on her face and not the _extremely_ distracting way her lithe fingers were mapping his palm. “I know your father, and I know he wants you to be happy more than anything. If you find something that’s going to make you happy and run after it, he’s not going to hold you back.”

“But-“

“Please, Katara?” Zuko could tell she’d been at least a little swayed by the logic of his argument, but he wasn’t above resorting to the slightly-less-honorable tactic of blatant whining. “I hate knowing that you’re lonely and not being able to do anything about it. I can’t promise you’re going to love it here, but I _can_ promise that there’s always someone in your corner here.”

She’d dropped his hand and looked down at the comforter while he was speaking, but when he finished, she looked up, her answering smile hesitant but hopeful. “I’ll think about it,” she conceded. “But I don’t want to be a distraction-“

That made Zuko chuckle weakly. “ _Please_ do that,” he told her, relishing the chance to make her smile. “Agni only knows I need one.”

“You have a country to run, an uprising to deal with, a bunch of extremely angry Earth Kingdom envoys to placate, a mother to catch up with, a _stab wound_ to heal from, the world’s most pigheaded Northern Water Tribe ambassador to avoid-“

“And a lonely best friend to make it up to.” He couldn’t _stop_ himself from smiling, sitting up a little too quickly (he winced, and Katara looked like she was going to protest until she saw his smile and the words died on her lips) and taking both of her hands in his. “Do you really think I wouldn’t drop _everything_ to spend time with my favorite person in the world?”

“Zuko,” she sighed in exasperation, releasing his hands nevertheless blushing and very clearly quite pleased. “This is what I’m talking about. You have actual responsibilities.”

He knew that, and it was a good point, so he tried a different tactic. “Well, what if you did too?”

“What if I what?”

“Had a job to do,” he told her. “There’s all kinds of things that need to be done around here that I could never get to. I could…give you a job, I guess.”

“A job?” _That_ got Katara’s attention. She flopped on her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows and angling her head towards him. “Like what?”

“Well, um.” _Think, Zuko. There’s got to be something._ He glanced around then caught sight of the water basin and had an idea. “Oh! The hospitals,” he suggested. “Social policy wasn’t really a priority during the war, so everything’s kind of a mess. Especially the hospitals. You could…inspect them. Report back to me about the conditions and tell me what needs to be done to make them better?”

“Hm.” Katara bit her lip, considering. “Well, that _does_ sound worthwhile.”

“And you’d be out of the palace all day, so I’d get work done, but then at night we could see each other?” he asked hopefully, glancing at her with an expression whose meaning he hoped was clear.

“Um.” Katara’s cheeks went crimson. “I don’t know exactly what you mean by _that_ -“

_Oh, Agni, she thinks I meant something else,_ he realized, his cheeks flushing to match hers. “No!” he cried, all too eager to reassure her. “No, I just meant we could…have dinner together! Talk! Feed the turtleducks, spar…that kind of…thing…”

Katara reached out to ruffle his hair. “You’re too easy,” she giggled. “That sounds nice.”

“Doesn’t it?” His heart soared. “I’ve missed you so much, and this way-“

“Okay. Deal.” She took a deep breath. “I accept.”

“ _Yes!”_ without thinking, Zuko pulled her flush against him, laughing into her hair. Katara squealed in surprise but still threw her arms around his neck in reply, muttering something about needing to rest that got lost in the shuffle of limbs as they tried to find a position that would appear halfway-platonic if anyone walked in on them.

Instead, the stubble on Zuko’s chin that he hadn’t bothered to shave since he’d been stabbed brushed the dip of Katara’s shoulder, and she burst into giggles all over again.

  
“Um, Katara…?”

“Sorry, that…just… _tickles,”_ she wheezed in between gasps of air, still laughing too hard to speak properly, and Zuko grinned wickedly.

“Does it?” he teased, bringing one of his hands around to her neck and rapidly brushing his fingers across the sensitive skin, sending her into another fit of giggles.

“ _Not_ fair!” she yelped, trying to unwrap herself from his arms to dodge him. _Shouldn’t have told me you were ticklish,_ he thought, diving after her as she threw herself across the bed to get away. She squealed, curling in on herself so he’d have less to work with, but it didn’t help much, so she tried fighting back, grasping at the fabric of his tunic and attempting to tickle his stomach through the fabric.

“Oh, is that how it’s going to be?” he shot back, followed shortly by an _extremely_ undignified noise as she grabbed his sides and dug her fingers in. Retaliating, he reached for the spot on her neck where she’d been so ticklish earlier.

“You’re gonna-“ she gasped for breath, shriek-laughing too hard to form a complete sentences. “Reopen your wound” – she wheezed, clutching at her stomach as she laughed _–_ “ _stop it!” –_ she had to stop for air _– “Zuko!”_ She gave in now, and he migrated to her stomach, where her midriff-baring top left her vulnerable. She couldn’t even _think_ of stopping herself from giggling now. “Is _this” –_ she wheezed – “what you meant” – again – “by _sparring?”_

“Could be,” he cackled, smirking as he tickled her stomach. That got her laughing even _more_ and even though their current position was patently ridiculous, Zuko was so relieved to see her _smile_ like this that he almost couldn’t bear it. “What, you like that?”

_“Zuko!”_ Katara squealed again. “I’m _not” –_ gasp “ _kidding,_ you’re gonna” – gasp – “ _reopen your wound!”_

“Is everything alright in here?”

They both froze – neither had heard the door open – and glanced at each other, their sheepishly flustered expressions near-identical. In a second of silent understanding, they flew apart. Ursa stood in the doorway with an expression equal parts horrified and smug.

“Mom! Uh…hi!” Zuko’s face was burning-hot.

“Fire Lady Dowager,” Katara stammered, bowing hastily. “I am so sorry-“

“It’s not what it looks like!” Zuko insisted. “It’s not, I-“

“Your _son_ doesn’t fight fair-“

“She was healing me-“

“And he _won’t take care of himself-“_

“I swear, Mom, it was just-“

“He was tickling me.”

“Right. That.” Zuko’s face flushed.

“Um. I’m gonna…” Katara stood. “I’m just gonna…”

“Good day, Lady Katara,” Ursa called after her, smiling knowingly as she left. Then she turned to her son.

“So, are you going to tell me what just happened?”

Zuko sighed. _I walked into this one, didn’t I._ “It really is just what she said,” he told her. “I was tickling her.”

“Okay.” Mercifully, Ursa let it drop. “I just…I heard you both screaming, and I…”

_Oh. Well,_ that’ll _rip your heart out._ “I’m sorry, Mom,” he said. “I didn’t think…”

“It’s all right, Zuko. You were having fun.” She smiled, though it still looked haunted. “I’ve just been jumpy. I almost lost you _again,_ and…”

“I’m sorry I scared you.” He swung his legs down from the bed but she flew to his bedside before he could stand, pushing his shoulders back against the pillow.

“Stay in bed, Zuko,” she told him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Isn’t that what Katara keeps telling you?”

“Yeah, well, Katara also tried to tickle me back, so I’m not really sure how _professional_ her opinion is.”

Ursa chuckled, her nerves abated. “Perhaps not.” She pulled back so she could make eye contact. “She may be skilled, but I’ve never seen anyone _less_ professional.”

“What do you _mean_ she’s not-“

“It’s not an insult, Zuko.” She smiled knowingly. “Of course she can’t be professionally objective. You’re her best friend.”

“Oh, right.” She had a point. “So…um…yeah. I’m okay.”

“She’s also in love with you,” Ursa reminded him, undeterred.

  
“It’s _complicated,_ mom.”

“If what I just saw means anything, it really isn’t,” she said gently, sitting beside him at the edge of the bed. “She came all the way here from the South Pole the _second_ she heard that you needed help, she’s barely left your side since she came here, she talks about you like you hung the moon-“

“She _talks_ about me?”

“Do you really think I wouldn’t have asked the girl who’s in love with my son a few questions?” Ursa asked.

“ _Mom.”_

“What kind of a mother would I be if I _didn’t_ interrogate her a little bit?” she shrugged innocently. “And I wasn’t done. You also make each other laugh, and you’re more comfortable with her than I’ve ever seen you with _anyone.”_

“Wait.” Zuko’s head was still spinning. “What did she say about me?”

“Maybe you should ask her yourself,” Ursa teased. “Have you talked about this since Ba Sing Se?”

“No,” Zuko sighed. “I mean…what we have now…” he trailed off. “If she _doesn’t_ feel the same way anymore, I don’t want to speak up and ruin what we still have.”

“Can I tell you something, Zuko?” she asked, inching a little closer. “You’re going to think it’s crazy, but I think you need to hear it.”

“Okay,” he said cautiously, unsure whether or not he should be worried about this.

“The second night, when you still had that fever?” she started. “You still weren’t lucid, so I wanted to check on you. It was so late that no one else was up but the guards, and they all knew me by now, so it was easy to get into your room. So I opened the door and you know what I saw?”

“Well, I was delirious, so I’m pretty sure it’s safe to assume I don’t.”

“Katara was still there,” she continued. “Snuggled up to you as close as she could get, sleeping. She was…kind of curled up around you, like she was trying to protect you even while you slept.”

“She…was?” Zuko couldn’t even begin to unravel what that image did to him.

“She was.” Ursa nodded. “She’d been there all day, sitting next to you, and I guess she just moved when she needed to sleep.”

“That’s…”

“Mm-hm.” She nodded. “And I just knew, the minute I walked into that room, that I was looking at the next Fire Lady.”

“Mom, you can’t-“

“Zuko, I know it takes a lot to get through that thick skull of yours” – she ruffled his hair, tears pooling in her eyes – “but believe me when I say that she is so _good_ for you.” She inhaled sharply. “So good _to_ you.”

“She is,” Zuko agreed. “She seems to have won you over pretty fast.”

“She saved your life.” Ursa bit her lip, trying not to cry. “That’d be enough to make me love _anyone,_ and she’s…special.”

“She really is.”

His mother brushed his hair aside to kiss his forehead before she left and, when she was gone, Zuko fell back against the pillows, smiling to himself.

He didn’t think the image of Katara curled around him, sleeping without knowing if or when he’d wake, would ever leave his mind.

* * *

“Spymistress?”

Hina glanced up from the water of the fountain – she’d been staring into it with a little too much concentration – at the sound of a voice. She turned to see Aang standing behind her (he was so _young –_ she’d known that the Avatar was a teenager, but she couldn’t get over how boyish and gangly he was now that they’d met) and shook herself, frustrated that she’d let someone sneak up on her so easily. “Yes?” she asked, trying to tuck in the frayed edges to her voice.

  
“Are you okay?” he asked, taking a seat beside her on the lip of the fountain. “With everything that’s happened to Zuko?”

_Well, he gets right to the point._ “I’m fine, thanks,” she said mechanically. She wasn’t interested in working out the firestorm of guilt and rage in her mind with a sanctimonious fifteen-year-old who’d probably never felt anger in his life.

“It’s not your fault,” Aang continued, completely undeterred by her lack of interest in talking things out. “Trust me, Spymistress, we all owe you one. Zuko probably wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for you.”

“No, he wouldn’t be alive if not for Katara,” she replied. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“You’re the one who got him out of the market in time,” Aang pointed out. 

“He wouldn’t have even _been_ at the market if it weren’t for me,” Hina spat. “We both knew there was an uptick in Ozai-loyalist activity. He should never have been out of the palace, but he wanted to celebrate my birthday…” her voice began to water and her vision swam, and as much as Hina willed herself not to lose control in front of the Avatar, she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. “I didn’t stop him. I’m always going to be mad that I didn’t stop him.”

  
“Spymistress-“

“Hina,” she interrupted. “It’s Hina.”

“Hina,” Aang continued. “That’s a pretty name. Anyway. You’re friends with Zuko, so I know you know how stubborn he is.”

“Intimately,” Hina sighed.

  
“And you also know how much he cares about his friends.”

“I do,” Hina agreed.

“So do you _really_ think you would’ve been able to talk him out of doing something nice for your birthday?” Aang asked.

“I should have-“

“Hina, you seem to be good at your job, but _nobody_ could’ve talked Zuko out of that.” Aang looked down at the water. “Not even Katara.”

“None of that matters anymore,” she said after they both stared aimlessly into the water for a moment. Aang bent patterns into the surface of the water the way Katara had with the water in her basin when she was sitting with Zuko and needed a distraction. _He probably got that from her,_ Hina realized. “What’s important now is figuring out who did it and what’s next.”

“What do you mean ‘what’s next’?” Aang asked. “Isn’t it over now?”

“Not even close,” Hina huffed. “The assassin is still at large, but I’m not even worried about him. It was obvious that he only got as close as he did to Zuko by chance. Pure luck – he wasn’t trained at all.”

“You said that,” Aang replied. “But won’t they stop going after him now that one of their people failed? Everyone’s going to be on alert now, so why would they do that?”

“I don’t think their plan was _just_ assassinating Zuko,” Hina explained. “I mean, that man even _said_ that it wasn’t a part of the plan. He was probably just a Phoenix Society member with a weapon who saw a chance and shortsightedly thought that killing the Fire Lord would get him a boost in the ranks.”

“So what do you think is actually going on?”

“I don’t know,” Hina sighed. “It has to be bigger than this, though. The Phoenix Society isn’t that organized, but they’re better than that guy was. They might be trying to turn public opinion against him so they’d have support when they put Ozai back on the throne, or…”

“Or?”

Hina hadn’t even wanted to consider the possibility, but she couldn’t ignore it any longer. “Maybe that guy wasn’t even Phoenix Society.”

“But he said-“

“I hope it’s not true,” Hina said, keeping her voice low, “but I’m starting to worry that the Phoenix Society is a cover-up.”

“For what?”

Hina swallowed hard. “Some kind of conspiracy.”

“But _why?”_

“I just think it’s kind of telling that the assassin didn’t even mention the Phoenix Society,” she said. “What he _said_ was ‘long live the Phoenix King.’ _Any_ Ozai supporter could’ve said that, not just a Phoenix Society member.”

“So why do you think that means the Phoenix Society is a cover-up?” Aang asked.

“Because their activities aren’t actually doing anything to support that idea,” Hina explained. “They’re not trying to break Ozai or Azula out of prison, they haven’t gone after Zuko, and their propaganda isn’t about why Ozai should be restored, it’s about why Zuko should be deposed.”

“That all makes sense,” Aang said. “But if they’re not Ozai loyalists, what are they? And why would they pretend to be?”

“They could be posing as an Ozai loyalist group as a way way to get allies,” she explained. "They’d pretend they were trying to reinstate Ozai to bring together the resources and manpower of all the smaller splinter groups that support him – that assassin could’ve been a member of _any_ of those – when they actually wanted the throne for themselves.”

“And why would they want that?”

Hina’s expression hardened. “That’s what I need to find out.”

“I could help you,” Aang offered. “If that’s really true, we have to stop them before they gain any real power. And I want to help you figure it out.”

“It’s just a hunch,” Hina cautioned him. “And as much as I appreciate it, you’re _sixte_ _en._ I don’t want to bring a kid into this.”

“I’m the _Avatar!”_ Aang protested. “I’ve been at war before, Hina. And it’s my _job_ to keep the peace.”

“Which you can do by-“

“Helping you keep Zuko safe,” he said firmly. “Nothing could be a bigger threat to the peace we all worked so hard for than a Fire Nation without Zuko. I know it’s risky, but I can handle myself, and you’re going to need someone you can trust.”

“I already put Zuko in danger once, Aang. I’m not about to do the same thing to his friends.”

“You won’t, Hina.” Aang stood. “If you don’t want my help, fine. But if you change your mind, I’ll still be here.”

  
She watched him leave, a million thoughts racing through her mind, before her voice rang out of its own accord. “Aang, wait!” she called.

He turned. “Yeah?”

“Okay.”

“You’ll let me help you?” Aang’s eyes lit up.

Hina nodded. “Meet me in my office at sundown.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I swear the tickle fight was 100% unplanned, as was the Phoenix Society conspiracy, and Aang and Hina's partnership (that actually started as me and @tonguetide yelling about how they'd be a hilarious crackship and then deciding they should be friends), and I'm freaking IN LOVE with every single one of those plot points. Guys. Writing this story just makes me SO HAPPY and I hope you can tell.
> 
> Also, the more I think about that “I knew I was looking at the next Fire Lady” line, the more I love it. Because if you think about it, Ursa was once Fire Lady, and she got nothing but misery out of the position. So I would imagine that she DESPERATELY wants Zuko to take a Fire Lady who a) will make him happy and b) will be happy herself, and be good at the job, and be loved and cherished in that relationship the way Ursa never was as well as an actual force for change. Not only is Katara all of those things, but she knows she and Zuko are deeply devoted to each other, which is evidenced by her observations of them after the assassination attempt, and idk but I just think she’d be like “this one. I want it to be this one.” And now I’m doing meta but honestly idec. I just love them and that line send tweet :)


	10. Puzzles and Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hina and Aang make an unexpected discovery; Katara inspects a hospital and is shocked by what she finds; Zuko and Katara talk things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how the HECK I went from the most ridiculous moment of this entire story to one of the most serious, but here we are. Enjoy the tonal whiplash! 
> 
> Also, this chapter assumes that the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation have invented printing presses and, by extension, typefaces. (I read a book about fonts once and I've never gone back, okay?) I don't think that's canonically possible, but I don't care.

“This is your _job?”_ Aang dropped his head to Hina’s desk with a groan. “I can’t even think straight anymore.”

  
In spite of her every impulse, Hina cracked a small smile. They'd been sorting through papers and intelligence reports on the Phoenix Society for hours and had yet to find any pertinent information, which was routine for her, but frustrating for him. “Welcome to my life, Avatar,” she said flatly, but he could still hear traces of the slightest teasing edge in her voice. “Gonna guess you haven’t found anything that looks suspicious?”

“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be looking for,” Aang said, his eyelids drooping with the sleep that so desperately wanted to drag his head back down to the desk. “I’m not a spy. I have no idea what information you could even use.”

“Anything that seems out-of-sorts,” Hina said, pawing through a stack of papers she was sure she’d already sorted through. “Like-“

“Hey, what’s this?” he picked up a paper booklet that had fluttered to the floor as Hina sorted through the piles and flipped through it. “A manifesto of the Phoenix Society. In the name of-“

“It’s a propaganda leaflet,” Hina hurriedly interrupted him, taking it from her hands and thumbing through it absentmindedly. “We’ve seen this a thousand times and still can’t figure anything out.”

“It seems like a good thing to try to use, though,” Aang pointed out. “Isn’t that the only direct proof you have that this group even exists?”

Hina paused and realized he had a point. “You’re…actually right,” she said, thoroughly surprised. “These leaflets _are_ the only concrete thing we really have on them, if you don’t count hearsay and eyewitness accounts of uprisings.”

“So take one last look at it,” Aang encouraged her. “Do your spy thing. You’re good at your job, Hina – I know you’ll find something in there.”

Aang then proceeded to lean back his chair so that he could rest his feet against the edge of Hina’s immaculate mahogany desk, leaving Hina seriously questioning how the fifteen-year-old who’d saved the world and routinely dispensed shockingly wise and perceptive insight could possibly coexist with this…

  
Well, _child._

(Zuko laughed when she told him this, later; “that’s Aang for you,” he told her, a little too amused at her confusion.)

“If you say so,” Hina muttered, scanning the pamphlet. “Feet down.”

Aang pouted, but he removed his feet from the desk as asked. Hina’s mind was a racing too quickly to focus on any one thing, so she barely processed the words she was skimming, seeing the outlines and shapes of the letters but not really reading the words. She absentmindedly wondered what the printing typeface was – it was an odd one, ornamental and willowy. It seemed like a weird choice for political propaganda when she would’ve gone with one of the minimalistic fonts popular in the Fire Nation’s documentation for anonymity.

“Wait,” Hina murmured after a pause. “They didn’t _care_ about being anonymous!”

“Huh?” Aang looked up from a book on espionage tactics he’d pulled from her bookshelf to browse.

“Get me that book of Earth Kingdom laws,” she told Aang, her face unflinchingly resolute. He looked puzzled, but nevertheless, he fetched the huge book, handing it to Hina. She immediately flipped to the back, where a few pages had been left blank for new laws to be added as they were created, and sifted through the pages until she found the last written-on sheet.

“What do you need that for?” Aang asked, observing the way Hina’s expression lit up when she read what was written at the bottom of the page with confusion.

“Ba Sing Se Serif!” she cried, holding the leaflet up like a trophy. “It’s printed in Ba Sing Se Serif!”

“Um…I’m a little bit lost.”

“Okay, you probably don’t, because normal people don’t just run around memorizing other nations’ obscure laws like I do, but do you remember what King Kuei’s first decree was after the Earth Kingdom was decolonized?” Hina asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

_This is why she took this job,_ Aang observed, a smile forming on his own face as he watched hers. _She really does love solving puzzles like this._

“No, I don’t.” Aang shrugged. “Something about his pet bear?”

“You’re actually not far off.” Hina turned the book around and slid it across the desk to him. “It was actually the Universal Typeface Decree.”

“By decree of King Kuei, all materials printed in the Earth Kingdom must utilize the Ba Sing Se Serif typeface,” Aang read. “Use of any other typeface on material which is to be distributed, sold, mailed, or submitted to an educational institution is…a crime punishable by hard labor?” his eyes widened. “What is _wrong_ with people?”

“It’s King Kuei, Aang.”

Aang shrugged. “True, it sounds like him. So _that_ was his first decree?”

Hina nodded. “Fire Nation typefaces became really popular there after it was taken over. It wasn’t forced on them, since no one but King Kuei thinks that’s a thing that needs to be legally enforced, but they were really readable, so they caught on. And the story goes that he hated those fonts so much that he made it illegal to use them, or any font but his favorite.”

“Ba Sing Se Serif?”

“That’s the one.” Hina grinned. “Now read the rest of the law.”

“Additionally, Earth King Kuei reserves the right to dictate where and when Ba Sing Se Serif is used outside of the Earth Kingdom,” Aang finished. “So what does that mean?”

“If these had been printed outside of the Earth Kingdom, Kuei would’ve had to have signed off on them.”

“But he wouldn’t have,” Aang said, puzzled. “He’s a little bit weird, but he’d never let someone print something supporting the guy who conquered his city, would he?”

“Exactly!” Hina stood up so quickly that papers flew to the ground all around her as she slapped her hands against the desk. “And he’s not dumb enough to risk incensing the Fire Nation like that when they _just_ regained their freedom. So these had to have been printed in the Earth Kingdom!”

“That’s so strange,” Aang said. “What interest would the Earth Kingdom have in putting Ozai back on the throne?”

“Remember, we can’t assume that that’s the goal,” Hina reminded him. “But it _is_ strange. And we need to look into it.”

“Okay, so what do we do next?” Aang asked, eager to do anything that didn’t involve sorting through paperwork.

Hina met his eyes and didn’t let go, her jaw setting in determination. “We’re going to Ba Sing Se.”

* * *

Katara began to wonder if she should be worried when the guide sent out to show her around the Caldera City General Hospital – not the city’s only hospital, but the main one – seemed familiar, though they’d never seen each other. But she brushed the feeling aside as she walked the pristine white halls of the hospital’s eastern wing with the woman, who’d introduced herself as Kimiko, admiring what appeared to be immaculately-maintained facilities. But there was something _off_ about it. Zuko had mentioned that the hospitals were in need of repair, and this one was modern and well-kept. _What am I not seeing here?_

And it hit her, as they walked into a long hall lined with cots of peacefully-sleeping, well-behaved patients and Kimiko turned back to her with a wide, featureless smile, that she’d seen this all before.

_Joo Dee._ Her heart sank like a stone. _That’s why I feel like I’ve seen this woman. She reminds me of Joo Dee._

“Kimiko,” Katara said cautiously as they approached the maternity wing, “we haven’t left the Eastern Wing yet. What are the other parts of the hospital used for?”

  
Kimiko’s pasted-on smile didn’t wane. “Those wings are for contagious patients, Lady Katara,” she said, pleasantly emotionless. “We cannot risk the safety of such an important guest by entering them.”

“Three whole wings?” Katara crossed her arms. “Look, I’m trying to be polite, but I don’t know what your thing is. I’m here on direct orders from Fire Lord Zuko to inspect this hospital, and I don’t think you want to be the one whose name I report when he asks me who stopped me from doing my job.”

Kimiko’s flat smile wavered ever-so-slightly. “If you insist, Lady Katara,” she said, leading her towards the North Wing.

_Just like I thought. Liar._ Katara followed Kimiko closely, on full alert. _If they’d really been for infectious patients, she’d never have let me within a mile of those wings._

“I must warn you that you will not like what you see,” Kimiko cautioned as she swung open the doors to the North Wing.

And she proved right the moment the door opened and an _ungodly_ stench invaded Katara’s nose.

She recoiled, but forced herself to keep moving forward. Forwards through hallways where doctors in soiled clothes ran about frantically, no doubt trying to attend to the patients crying out for help or simply groaning in pain in the rooms lining the walls. Forwards into vacant rooms with unmade beds, dirty walls, and bloodstained sheets no one had laundered, and other, equally-decrepit rooms occupied with the most destitute people Katara had ever laid eyes on. Forwards through disorganized wards where people suffering in every imaginable way, with every imaginable affliction, gave time they didn’t have to wait for doctors who were so clearly stretched so thin that they couldn’t possibly get to them all.

Forwards into a world so different from the one she’d been shown in the Eastern Wing that Katara could hardly believe they existed in the same _city,_ let alone the same _complex._

“What is the meaning of this?” Katara said, her voice like cold, polished steel as she turned to Kimiko. “You’re clearly capable of providing adequate care to your patients, and yet – if the other two wings are anything like this one – you’re falling _unimaginably_ short of that, and people are suffering for it! And all I want to know is why. _Why_ hasn’t this been addressed?”

“Ma’am, the quality of care that we provide to our patients in the Eastern Wing is prohibitively expensive to extend to the other three wings,” she said, her expression now totally blank. “We could not possibly-“

“What, keep this place _clean?”_ Katara shouted, not caring who heard. It had been ages since she’d felt so angry and tears swam in her eyes at the indignity forced upon these people who needed compassion so badly, at this vapid Joo Dee clone’s indifference to the fact that so many were suffering, and at the fact that they so clearly _could_ be helping these people but, for whatever reason, weren’t. “Wash the bedsheets, sweep the floors, dispose of waste properly? None of that is difficult, or expensive. Give me one good excuse for the fact that there are cockroach-mice _everywhere!”_

“We’re highly understaffed, My Lady-“

“Then hire new people!” Katara threw up her hands. “And who decides which patients get sent where, anyway? Why aren’t any of these people in the Eastern Wing?”

“Lady Katara, the Eastern Wing is private,” Kimiko said, annoyance prickling behind her pleasant tone. “We cannot-“

“But _why?”_

Kimiko stared at her as if she’d never seen such stupidity. “I explained, of course, that such care is prohibitively expensive,” she said flatly. “My implication was that it is too expensive when the patients can’t _pay_ for it.” 

“ _Wait.”_ Katara could barely even _feel_ her anger anymore, fire turning to ice in her veins as Kimiko’s words sank in. “This entire system is based on ability to _pay?”_

“That’s right, Lady Katara,” Kimiko said, trotting off down the hall. “It’s the only way this hospital system can be maintained. “Those who pay receive the most expensive care. Those who do not are treated whenever possible-“

“Let me tell you something, Kimiko,” Katara spat.

“Yes?” Kimiko, at least, had the decent sense to look worried at the venomous expression on Katara’s face.

“I fought in a war when I was fifteen years old, Kimiko. I have seen _countless_ injustices, watched good people die over and _over,_ and witnessed how many ways people can hurt each other a million times. And _this,”_ Katara seethed, her fists clenching, “is _still_ the single most _disgusting_ act of inhumanity that I have _ever seen in my entire life!”_

“My Lady-“

Katara was off before she could hear the end of Kimiko’s statement, barging in on a patient she’d just seen a doctor go in to attend to, and bent the water out of her ever-present waterskin before the door was even fully opened. “You go treat someone else,” Katara said flatly. “I’ll take care of this one.”

  
The doctor didn’t even ask before taking off, and Katara got to work.

* * *

“Katara? Are you out here?”

A few hours and at least half a pint of tears later, Katara turned at the sound of Zuko’s voice. She knew her face was red and raw from hours of crying, but she barely had the strength to care as she weakly called out, “I’m over here.”

Zuko was at her side in a few seconds, sitting beside her on the ledge above the turtleduck pond. “Where have you been, Katara?” he asked, pausing when she lifted her face. Immediately, his expression softened, and for a moment he just stared at her, unsure what to do or say.

“Here,” she said, breaking his gaze when, after a few moments, he said nothing. “I could use a hug, you know, if it’s not too much trouble-“

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, obligingly wrapping his arms around her. Katara wilted into the hug like a flower on a too-hot afternoon, a weary sob wracking her shoulders.

“I wasn’t ready,” she sniffled into his robes. “The hospital…it was so _bad,_ Zuko.”

“Oh.” He squeezed a little tighter. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Katara pulled away from him, meeting his eyes full-on. “At first, my tour guide took me to the Eastern Wing. It was really nice. Well cared-for, fully-staffed, all the patients seemed like they were getting what they needed, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d said that the hospitals needed reform, and I just…”

“That wasn’t how the whole hospital was, was it?” Zuko sighed, leaning back against his hands.

Katara nodded, ducking to wipe another tear from her eyes. “Once we got to the North Wing, it was like another world. Dirty floors, doctors rushing everywhere because there weren’t enough of them to get to everyone, patients screaming and groaning, cockroach-mice all over the place…and that was just in the _hallway.”_ Anger burned in Katara’s still-teary eyes. “The rooms were a mess, too. Dirty bedsheets, no waste disposal, cramped…”

Zuko squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “It’s worse than I thought, isn’t it?” He smacked his palm against the stone ledge. “It’s _always_ worse than I thought!”

That frustration only made Katara’s face fall further, and soon tears were slipping from her eyes again. “And you know what that tour guide told me?” she said, wishing there were something she could do to take this terrible burden of _knowing_ from her heart. “She told me that the care patients got in the Eastern Wing was ‘prohibitively expensive.’”

“Let me guess. Only people who could afford it got that care?”

  
Katara nodded, too afraid to speak for fear that her voice would break. “If you’re not rich, you’re out of luck.” She clutched at his robes again, crying into his shoulder without reserve. “Zuko, it’s just so _wrong.”_

“It is wrong,” he agreed, rubbing her back as if this wasn’t weighing on his conscience just as heavily as it was on hers. “But we’re going to find a way to fix this, Katara. We _are.”_

“Can we, even?” she asked, and his heart broke at the way that strong, assured voice sounded so _small._ “It’s just…you can’t _really_ fix this until you end poverty, and how can you stop something that runs so deep?”

“I don’t know, Katara,” he admitted, and they held each other close for a moment, too overwhelmed to speak. “But…we can take the first step, right?”

“I guess we can,” she agreed, her voice small but strengthening.

“Then let’s do it, okay?” he told her, letting go and grabbing her hands. “Let’s make a plan and take as many steps as we can.”

His words seemed to put some of the steel back in her spine, and she nodded resolutely, sniffling but determined. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

Their eyes and hands met, and though neither their faces nor their hands held certainty, there was something steely and invincible in their faces and the way their hands clasped each other tight. They’d confront this head-on, they’d do it together, and maybe – just maybe, Katara hoped – they’d get enough of it right to change things.


	11. The Avatar and the Spymistress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Katara disagree about the best way to ameliorate the sorry state of the Fire Nation's healthcare system. Aang and Hina learn a little bit about each other on the way to Ba Sing Se.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I realized last chapter that absolutely anything I write about Katara's healthcare crusade is going to look like a political statement, and that's the last thing I want this story to be. I want to tell a story set in a fictional world without bringing our own into it, so nothing that I write is is representative of real-world issues, events, or opinions. Thus, I will try to do what is best for this story and makes the most sense given the plot and characters; I'll also try not to say anything that could be construed as patently offensive by members of *any* political group or holders of any opinion, but if that isn't possible, please know that this is a work of fiction and not at all reflective of the real world. It's fanfiction, not politics. 
> 
> Also. I know there are at least two Haang shippers reading this and one possible Zuna shipper, so I threw y'all some crumbs, and this pleases me far too much. Please enjoy :p

When Katara had realized how much work still had to be done to combat the appalling state of the Fire Nation’s healthcare system, she’d imagined stiff resistance on all sides. She’d been confident she’d have to face the ire of councilmen wary of change, the constraints of too-small budgets, and the personal difficulty that would inevitably accompany taking on such a task by herself. She hadn’t for a moment thought that this would be easy.

But she hadn’t for a moment thought that her staunchest opposition would come from _Zuko,_ either.

“Katara, I don’t know how many more ways I can explain this,” he sighed, wearily resting his arms atop a mountain of documents. “We have to lay the political groundwork for all of this reform or none of it will stick.”

Katara, whose condition had deteriorated over the past hour until she was a dangerous combination of exhausted and irate, glowered. “People are suffering, Zuko,” no longer shouting but close to it. “People are suffering, and those people need _action,_ not _paperwork!”_

“And we’re going to make that happen for them!” Zuko countered, throwing up his hands. “But if we just waltz in and start insisting people fix things, they’ll go back to their old ways the minute we aren’t looking, and how is _that_ helpful?”

“Most of these people don’t have the time to wait for the councilmen to make up their minds!” Katara stood now, leaning over the desk towards him so he’d have _absolutely no excuse_ to claim he hadn’t heard her. “And I’m not willing to let all those people die in squalor because we needed to” – she made quotations around the words with her fingers – “’set a precedent’!”

“Okay, let me walk you through this.” Zuko ran his hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. “Say we hire a bunch of new people and make them clean up Caldera City General. It gets better for a while. We have inspectors check up on them, and it’s all fine for a few months. But then the political climate changes, or something more urgent comes up, or the funding gets cut, and _then_ what? No one’s thinking about it anymore, the corrupt officials who let it get this bad in the first place let it go right back to the way things were before, and nothing’s actually been accomplished. And how can we make sure that doesn’t happen?”

“By making a lasting commitment to-“

“By coming up with guidelines for hospital maintenance and requiring them to comply by law. By hiring good, dedicated inspectors who care about making change and keeping them on the palace payroll. By making laws that combat corruption and channel more funding into social services. Katara, _that’s_ how you make lasting change! You have to create legislation and fund and enforce it-“

“But that’s going to take _years,_ Zuko.” Katara’s frustration had her close to tears. “There are things we can do _now,_ and I _know_ you know it, but you just won’t act on those opportunities-“

“Because I _can’t._ Even if there _were_ legal precedent for those actions, I’d risk destabilizing the political situation even more if I did something so radical-“

“Helping people who desperately need it is _radical?”_ now Katara was downright enraged. “ _Radical?_ Zuko, do you even _hear_ yourself?”  
  


“Katara, believe me, I _know.”_ His voice was as pained as his wince as he turned a little too rapidly. “It’s just-“

“Your shoulder,” Katara said, her tone just as accusing but a little more concerned. “Did you reopen it?”

“No, and we can talk about that later. What I was _trying_ to say was-“

“Zuko, you don’t get to neglect _your_ health, too.” She moved around behind him, placing her hand atop his shoulder as if to ask permission; granting it, he shifted the collar of his robe a few inches over, letting her inspect the wound. “Seems fine from the outside, but Zuko, if it’s still hurting you, you need to-“

  
“ _No.”_ He shook his head. “I know you don’t think I care about this, Katara, but I really, truly _do._ We disagree about how to go about it, but we both know it can’t wait.”

Reluctantly, she took her seat again. “Okay,” she said, hesitant. “So tell me again how exactly anything I’m suggesting is _radical.”_

“It’s not,” Zuko sighed, leaning back into the plush of his high-backed armchair. “If it were up to me, we’d have this all signed into law by the end of the week, and that would be that. But I have councilmen who might say that, and they’re…set in their ways. They have agendas, they want to keep power, and giving an inch feels like a threat to them. It’s stupid, I know, and yes, I _know_ they’re horrible people, but as much as I hate it, they’re the old guard, and if I don’t want to end up deposed, I have to keep them around.”

“Okay.” Katara leaned her chin against her palm. “My gut says get rid of them, but if you can’t do that without putting yourself in danger, do we just…try to convince them?”

He nodded. “That’s going to be the hard part. We have to come up with a plan that those old codgers will actually agree to back.”

“ _And_ we can come up with a way to help people directly while we do, right?” Katara asked, the cold-steel sharpness returning to her eyes. “Because if we have to get past the council, it’s going to be _months_ before we can actually help people, and that’s _not_ going to cut it.”

“Um…yeah, but we have to come up with that, too,” Zuko said, a little worried – he was used to Katara’s anger, but it was rarely directed at him anymore. He hadn’t felt this kind of animosity from her in years. “I can play the ‘I’m the Fire Lord and I do what I want’ card a few times, but if we try to do too much, it’ll look like we’re trying to go behind the backs of the councilmen-“

“We _are_ trying to go behind the backs of the councilmen!”

“…and that’s only going to make it harder to convince them to go along with legislation that might actually change things,” Zuko finished. “This isn’t a Painted Lady situation where you can just go in, anonymously blow something up, and leave without anyone knowing who did it. You’re here as the Minister of Social Affairs, and I’m the _Fire Lord,_ and we’re being watched. We can’t just do whatever we feel like anymore. If we want things to get better, we have to try to keep things stable enough that they won’t try to kill me again and send us all the way back to-“

“Oh, so now you’re playing the _assassination_ card?” Katara’s eyes flashed. “Nice one, Fire Lord. Now I’m supposed to decide between my best friend’s life and the lives of thousands of suffering people who I _could_ and _should_ be helping?”

“Katara, I never asked you to-“

“Really? Because what it sounds like to me is that you’d rather let things stay the way they are than take a risk that might cause a little bit of political discord!”

“How are we _ever_ supposed to make lasting change if the people who are committed to it all get deposed?” Zuko was shouting now, but he didn’t care. “I _know_ you get this, Katara! I have to stay in power to enforce whatever law we pass, and that’s not even considering all the people who will suffer in _addition_ to these ones if there’s another regime change, or unrest, or another uprising, and-“ he paused, realizing Katara was no longer responding. “Katara?”

She didn’t respond; her head was bent over her hands, a curtain of hair falling in front of her face. Her shoulders shook, and he noticed droplets of water hitting the papers over which she’d slumped. He wanted to take her into his arms and ask what was wrong and a million other things, but he stayed frozen in place, waiting for a response he was pretty sure wasn’t coming.

It didn’t, and she sat there for several moments in silence, sniffling, and vehemently refusing to meet Zuko’s eyes. When she finally did, cold, steely resolve mixed with her tears and the exhausted bags under her eyes. She looked as if she were about to speak before she yawned, and whatever she’d intended to say died on her lips as she realized just how _tired_ she was. She blinked a few times, surprised to find that she could barely keep her eyes open. Pawing through stacks of papers didn’t help her to stay awake and soon her head began to bob and she drifted off, her cheek resting against a stack of papers. Zuko was equally exhausted, but he was used to it by now; if anything, he was relieved that she’d managed to drift off when he knew he wouldn’t for hours.

“That’s no way to sleep,” he murmured, careful not to wake her as he pulled her chair away from the table. She stirred but didn’t wake as he lifted her – his shoulder screamed in warning but he chose to ignore it – and crossed the room in a few labored steps, setting her down on the velvet settee along the opposite wall of his office. She didn’t move, and Zuko shifted the throw pillows to support her head, draping the blanket that hung across the back of the couch over her sleeping form. “That should be better.”

It was impossible to stay frustrated at her, to feel the tension that had built up like a gathering storm while they were awake, when she looked like this. She curled in on herself as much as she could, and her face was as peaceful and youthful as he’d ever seen it. Zuko had already reached his desk when, with one last glance at her, he realized he couldn’t resist, and walked back over to the couch to press a feather-light kiss to the crown of her head before he returned to his work.

(And as to staying the night in his study – well, that was never in question.)

* * *

Days on end on a boat could get pretty boring.

  
Though Hina had tried distracting herself – examining the documents she’d brought to pore over for clues, reading the mystery scroll she’d stashed in her bag for emergencies, watching for dolphins on deck, and playing endless games of Pai Sho with a young merchant who seemed far more interested in Hina’s conversation than her game strategy – it hadn’t been able to keep her busy enough.

As much as she’d dreaded it, she was going to have to make conversation with Aang.

Part of her wondered why the idea scared her so much. Aang had been nothing but kind and friendly since they’d met, and though he could be childish, he wasn’t a half-bad traveling compaion. His desire to help was unmistakably sincere, his intuition was sharp for someone so young, and even his enjoyment of Hina’s company seemed real. But the idea of making casual conversation with him was _terrifying_ to her, and though she could pretend she didn’t know why, none of her efforts to do so were particularly convincing.

At the end of the day, he was so undeniably _good_ that she was afraid of what he’d think of her own checkered past. _Stop being ridiculous,_ she’d tried to tell herself. _You don’t even need to care what he thinks of you._ But…she _did_ care, for some reason, and it was that concern that made her feel small in his presence. It was easier if she kept things in, didn’t have any cause to slip up and reveal that she wasn’t the saint that he was.

But by the fourth night of sailing, she was bored enough to drawl, “nice weather, huh?” as she reclined against the pillows of the stateroom bed, mystery scroll laying open and discarded across her knees.

“Yeah, and a good, stiff breeze,” Aang said, seemingly surprised that she’d spoken. He shifted to sit up against the backboard of the threadbare sofa (even the best stateroom on this ship, apparently, was in need of repairs) where he’d elected to sleep, insisting she take the bed. “We’ll be in Ba Sing Se in no time if this keeps up.”

“I hope so,” Hina yawned. “I’m getting really sick of this boat.”

“Hey, I _did_ suggest that we take Appa.” Aang shrugged. “You’re the one who wanted to be undercover.”

“Yeah, because we _have_ to be,” Hina argued. “No one is going to hand over compromising information on an anti-Fire Nation group to the Avatar and the Spymistress of the Fire Nation.”

“Still beats this, though,” Aang said. “Not that I mind, of course! The couch is great. I love the couch.”

“Do you want to switch?” Hina asked, gesturing to the bed. “You’re not the only one who knows how to sleep in weird places.”

“No, trust me, it’s fine,” Aang said, flopping back against pillows that had sent up dust clouds on impact for the entire first day they’d been traveling. “But that’s kinda cool, that you can sleep anywhere. Where’d you learn that?”

“Had to, growing up,” she said vaguely. She hadn’t wanted to talk about her past, but she was certain she could still dodge it.

“Oh, really?” Aang sat up again, watching her attentively. “How’s that?”

“Well, at first, I lived in the palace with my parents,” she said. “They headed up the intelligence department under Azulon, same position as I have now. Then Ozai took power and started purging the palace of everyone who’d been loyal to his father…you can guess.”

“Oh.” She didn’t have to explain that one. “I’m so sorry, Hina. I know how that feels.”

_Oh, right. The Air Nomads._ “Yeah,” she said, hugging her knees to her chest in a rare display of vulnerability. “Yeah, it sucks.”

“So where’d you go after that?”

Hina wanted to be annoyed, or at least terrified of the low opinion of her he’d hold after this, but she felt…weirdly calm. “To live with my dad’s parents, at first,” she continued. “I was still in the city. I loved them and all, but I was never really happy there. Too much wrong with my world for that, you know?”

“Yeah,” Aang replied. “I think I do know.”

“Anyway, when I was thirteen, I left them to join the Liberation League,” she said. “You ever heard of them?”

Aang shook his head. “Nope. What were they?”

“The Liberation League was this resistance group in the Fire Nation during Ozai’s rule,” she explained. “Their goal was to aid the Fire Nation’s colonies in freeing themselves.”

“Oh, I see.” Aang shifted, crossing his legs to settle into the couch more evenly.

“Yeah. I’m half Earth National, so I guess their cause kind of resonated with me.”

“You are?” Aang examined her as if looking for clues. “Huh. I thought you were just Fire Nation.”

“Most people do,” Hina sighed. “But I’m not. My mom was Earth National. A Kyoshi Warrior, actually.” She couldn’t help but let a tiny smile of pride slip past her shields at that. Hina had never admired anyone more. “I wanted to help people like myself, so I joined, and in a few years, I was coordinating entire missions. I became the de facto leader of the group after the last one got killed in an” – _arson mission gone wrong,_ she’d wanted to say, but she didn’t think he’d take that well – “attack. Worked with the Order of the White Lotus a few times, too, which is how General Iroh knew about me.”

“Oh, is that why you got hired?”

“Yeah. The General was actually the one who hired me. I’m pretty sure Zuko was skeptical about it, but he came around.” As much as she didn’t want to think about Zuko, she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of their first meeting.

“You and Zuko are close, aren’t you?” Aang observed, and when Hina nodded, he followed up with, “do you like him?”

Hina narrowed her eyes. “What kind of a question is _that?_ Of course I like my best friend.”

“No, like, _like-_ like,” Aang clarified. “Do you _like-_ like Zuko?”

Hina flushed. “What? Of course I don’t. What gave you _that_ idea?” When Aang looked skeptical, she continued. “Besides, it’s obvious that he’s in love with Katara.”

Aang winced. “Is it?”

_Interesting,_ Hina noted. “Did you not notice?” _Of course he has,_ she realized. _It’s just that…_ ”wait. _You_ like her, don’t you?”

“I did,” he admitted, surprising her with how willingly he’d confess to his feelings. “I think I’m over it, but sometimes it still hurts a little bit to see her with Zuko.”

“I’m sorry, Aang,” Hina sighed. “Must be rough.”

  
“It was, but it’s getting better,” he said. “But…I never answered your question. I asked if you liked Zuko because it’s obvious that you really care about him. You took that assassination attempt harder than anyone. I just wondered if that was why.”

“I took it hard because it was my fault,” she replied. _This_ was familiar, comfortable territory, at least. “If it hadn’t been for me-“

“Hina, you have to stop telling yourself that,” Aang interrupted. “It’s normal to be upset, but you’re not helping anyone by blaming yourself for something you couldn’t control.”

“I can’t even _look_ at him!” Hina snapped, the black cloud of misery that hung over her whenever she thought too much starting to settle in over her. “Because whenever I see him, all I can think about is how I’m the reason he almost died, and you want to know something, Aang?” her eyes flashed and she used her arms to brace herself against the bed, almost shaking with anger and pent-up frustration. “That stupid font isn’t the only reason I wanted to come to Ba Sing Se.”

Aang just looked at her for a moment before realization dawned on his face. “You’re running away,” he said, his voice and tone and expression and entire deportment suddenly more _human_ than she’d ever seen it. She nodded miserably. “Hey, I get that,” Aang continued. “No one gets that more than I do. I ran away so hard I ended up taking a hundred-year nap in an iceberg.”

Hina looked up, a tiny smile of disbelief forming on her face. “ _That’s_ how you ended up in that iceberg?” He nodded and Hina leaned back against the pillows, curious. “Tell me how that happened.”

It shouldn’t have surprised her when he did, but it still did. And it surprised her still more when she found herself feeling…warm. Comfortable. Safe. Things she hadn’t felt in ages but felt here, rocked to sleep by the waves in a ratty old stateroom on a boat to Ba Sign Se with the Avatar.

Life had a funny way of reminding her just how little she knew.


	12. Forging Alliances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Katara find that sleeping on it is quite underrated. In Ba Sing Se, Aang and Hina turn to old allies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for Katara’s “overflow plan” re: healthcare reform goes to the lovely @nymphadora88, who had some great ideas in a comment on the last chapter. Thank you so much! 
> 
> POUR ONE OUT FOR THE HAANG GANG. (There are so many dang pun possibilities in that ship name? Iconic?) This was a fun one for me to write even if these kids are the densest idiots ever. 
> 
> And pour another one out for the BEST hype squad - Maren, Sofia, Dee, and Brittany, I ADORE you, and I couldn't do this - or write at this terrifyingly breakneck pace - without your support, hype, and excitement. I love you guys, and even though it's not much, this wouldn't even exist without you guys. Special thanks to Haangouts With the Waiting Gang, y'all know who you are <3

Katara’s eyes were still heavy when she opened them, awoken by a sore back and a crick in her neck and wondering how exactly she’d managed to sleep in such an uncomfortable position in the absurdly luxurious bed she’d been provided with.

But then she went to sit and nearly fell to the floor, and she realized _exactly_ how that had been possible.

“Zuko?” she muttered, rubbing at her eyes as she swung her blanket-draped legs down from the velvet settee that wasn’t as plush as it looked. “Did you-“

She froze when her eyes finished their search of the room and landed on a still-sleeping Zuko, slumped over a stack of paperwork in his chair. Mad as she’d been when she fell asleep, the sight made her smile. _He must’ve carried me to the couch after I passed out,_ she realized, heart melting at the image of Zuko cradling her to his chest and setting her down to sleep somewhere a little more comfortable. It was a kind of soft domesticity she’d always loved the idea of but been a little too afraid to hope for – all the warmth and love and softness of home without confinement, late nights working side-by-side, fights that fizzled by bedtime no matter how fierce they’d been, finding the purpose meant for her outside these walls and savoring the purpose she and her beloved would find in each other.

  
She found herself clutching the ends of a blanket a little too tightly as she watched him sleep, and it was all too easy to picture: this, her normal, her routine. Helping to clean the muck from the surface of a broken nation so its light could shine through. Falling asleep at work, being carried somewhere softer in arms that loved her when she fell asleep right at the desk. And maybe more, too.

Maybe a hesitant brush of lips leading to a million more. Maybe bouquets of fire lilies and kisses in rainstorms and kisses stolen when both had work to do and afternoons in gardens saved just for her. Maybe a new band around her neck and the laughter of their friends as they toasted the bride and groom and a Fire Lady’s hairpiece. Maybe waking in his arms and letting him fall asleep in hers. Maybe the palace full of the laughter of children with her skin and his eyes-

But the thought of it broke her heart too much to let it continue when she _knew_ it wouldn’t be. She loved Zuko with everything she had; Zuko was, technically, now her boss; Zuko didn’t seem interested. These were the facts of her life nowadays, ones she couldn’t disregard for sentiment – not when she needed to keep this position desperately if she wanted to make change, find purpose, feel whole.

Not when she was happy; Katara could not risk what happiness she had for a kind of happiness she couldn’t be sure she’d ever be able to obtain.

“Katara?” a voice broke the haze covering her thoughts and she shook herself awake again, turning to see Zuko lift his head from the stack of papers he’d been using as a pillow. “How long have you been up?”

  
“Not long,” she said, flushing when she realized she had no _idea_ how long it had been. _Getting lost in a daydream? Katara, you’re better than that!_ She chided herself. “I’m sorry, I just passed out-“

“No, it’s fine,” he muttered, stretching to wake himself. “You were tired. It was no problem.”

“Did you move me?” she asked before she can think better of it. “To the couch?”

“It’s a settee,” he said, his cheeks going crimson.

Katara rolled her eyes. “Okay, Fire Lord Furniture Expert, did you move me to the _settee?”_

“Yes, Minister of Sarcasm, I _did_ move you,” he said, his expression just a tad too smug for the amount of sleep he’d had. “I’ll take that as a thank you.”

“I have a crick in my back, so don’t get too pleased with yourself,” Katara shot back with a smirk of her own. “And I think I’m more of a Minister of Snarky Retorts. Sarcasm is Sokka’s thing.”

“Minister of Pains-in-the-Neck is more like it,” he teased, and in an instant he was out of his chair, making his way over to the couch and throwing Katara over his shoulder. “And what? Is it such a crime that I like carrying you around?”

Katara, precariously bent double over Zuko’s shoulder, was as embarrassed as she was giddy when she replied, “it is when you have a _stab wound_ you’re trying to heal.”

“It would be a pity not to make use of all the training I do when I haven’t just been stabbed,” he pointed out. She could hear the smirk in his voice.

  
“Are you _flirting_ with me, Fire Lord?” She doubted he was, but…she could dream, she supposed.

“Why do you always call me Fire Lord when you’re trying to get under my skin?” he asked, his teasing tone a little more self-conscious. _Dodging the question. Interesting._

“’Cause it works,” Katara said sweetly.

“We have work to do,” he said gruffly, setting her down in her chair. _Oh._ Katara’s stomach dropped. _I made him uncomfortable._

“Okay,” she said a little stiffly. “So where did we leave off?”

“Um, I think you were about to give me a piece of your mind, and then you started crying, and then you nodded off,” Zuko recapped. “But what we need to do is come up with a proposal for these reforms that might actually stand a chance at getting through the Council.”

“Yeah, no pressure,” Katara sighed. “So I was thinking-“

“You were _sleeping!”_

“There’s a reason they say to ‘sleep on it,’” she replied. “Anyway, I have a couple of ideas, but most of them are gonna be way too controversial for you to consider them, probably-“

“Let me hear them, Katara.”

“Really?” she hadn’t been expecting that after their argument yesterday. “Well, if you want, I guess…”

“I do. Want, I mean,” Zuko said, a little flustered.

“Well, I was reviewing this year’s budget,” Katara started, sifting through documents to find the right one. “Ah, right. This one. See how high that military spending figure is?”

Zuko glanced over the scroll she’d passed him. “Yeah, it’s a big chunk of the budget,” he said. Then it hit him. “Oh, no. Katara, I’m not kidding, that would get you killed.”

“Why would you be putting that much of the budget into the military during peacetime?” Katara protested. “I know it’s unpopular, but there is _no_ point in having a standing army of that size!”

“I know, Katara, I really do.” His eyes pleaded with her but hers were unyielding. “But these men were born and raised at war. Most of them were soldiers, and they had so much propaganda beaten into their brains that, coming from a foreigner, they’d take the idea of downsizing the military as an insult to the entire Fire Nation.”

“But scaling back that part of the budget would free up so much funding that could be diverted to the hospitals,” Katara protested. “Or…well, _anything._ Every hospital in the Fire Nation could be like the Eastern Wing for _free_ if you cut even a quarter of that budget.”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Zuko asked wearily. “I don’t want to fight you, Katara, but I can’t sign off on that big of a cut when my Council is already ready to stage a coup because of the reparations I agreed to pay.”

“Fine, then. Few ideas.” Katara searched for a scroll she’d been keeping notes of her ideas on. “One, run the hospitals on a priority system. Find a sympathetic noble family to fund an experiment where the worst cases get free care in places like the Eastern Wing. That means that, as hospitals get crowded, some of the rich patients with milder conditions spill over into the areas that were previously just for the poor. They’re outraged, they beg the government to fix things, and just like that, the Council has a voice of reason it’ll actually listen to. That way, you get around the need for the Council’s approval to take the first steps, _and_ you force their hands later on.”

Zuko paused for a moment, his face unreadable, and Katara’s triumphant expression fell. _He hates that, doesn’t he,_ she realized.

“Katara, that’s… _brilliant,”_ he said after a moment, and she could’ve cried with relief.

“Thank you,” she said, disgusing her triumph with primness. “And once they see that they have no choice but to fund better care, _then_ we hit them with the budget cuts.”

“Once they have no choice,” Zuko muttered, meeting Katara’s eyes with nothing but awe. “Katara, do you have any idea how good you are at this when you’re not yelling at me?”

“Zuko, I would never have been able to come up with that if we hadn’t spent a day yelling at each other,” she teased. “But thank you. I would prefer to be good at my job.”

“I mean, there are still details to work out,” he cautioned. “We’re going to have to hammer out the finer points later, and I know we’re going to disagree.”

“It’s worth it, though,” Katara said, not dropping his gaze. She knew her own smile mirrored his – a little awed, a little goofy, a little flustered. “Yeah, we’re going to fight, because we’re _us._ We _do_ that. But we can do _this,_ too.”

* * *

Anyone else, when planning an epic quest for country-saving information, would head to a house of governance or a military fort to forge helpful alliances. But not Aang and Hina.

No, Aang and Hina stepped off the boat at Ba Sing Se and made a break for a quaint Upper Ring tea shop.

“I worked with the Order of the White Lotus, remember?” Hina had said when Aang expressed surprise that she knew Iroh. “We moved through a lot of the same circles without knowing it.”

“Funny you should say that,” Aang replied. “Because…you know how you told me to take care of finding somewhere to stay?”

“Um…yes?” Hina’s life flashed before her eyes, and she began to regret giving that job to a somewhat flighty sixteen-year-old boy. They might well end up sleeping in an alley. 

“Well, uh…” Aang scratched the back of his neck, laughing sheepishly. “I may or may not have sent General Iroh a hawk asking if we could stay with _him.”_

“…oh.” That hadn’t been what she’d expected – far from it, actually. This was a significant improvement over whatever it was she’d been worrying about. “Not particularly incognito, but we can make it work.”

“We can trust Iroh to hide us,” Aang said. “After all, no one even knows who he is here. Did he ever tell you about how him and Zuko hid out from the Fire Nation here?”

“Zuko’s mentioned it in passing, but he never said much,” Hina said. “Why? Is that a story I should know?”

“Um…” Aang paused, considering. “Well, if you hear anyone call him Mushi, don’t question it.”

  
Hina couldn’t help but laugh. “ _Mushi?”_

“Ask him about it while we’re here,” Aang said as they flagged down a palanquin.

“I will,” Hina said skeptically, and they were silent for a few minutes as they watched the scenery of the city fly by outside the palanquin’s tiny windows. She’d have preferred to walk, but it was easier to maintain anonymity if less people had the chance to see their faces. Her features were obviously Fire Nation, and even though he wore a cap to cover his tattoos, Aang’s face was recognizable enough to give people pause. It was simpler to stay out of sight until they arrived in the Upper Ring. Hina paid their fare when they arrived and stepped out to see Iroh and a tiny, dark-haired girl about Aang’s age standing outside of the shop, ready for them.

“I heard that your ship was docking at half past ten, so we figured we’d wait for you!” Iroh greeted them, chuckling when Aang stumbled out of the palanquin in his rush to hug him. “We’ve missed you.”

“I missed you guys too,” Aang said, letting go of Iroh, who walked off, muttering something about getting their bags. He fetched their suitcases from the corner where the driver had dumped them and carried them inside as Aang turned to the girl.

On closer inspection, the girl was shorter than Hina by a few inches, and her green eyes were cloudy; she seemed familiar somehow, but she couldn’t remember why. Aang didn’t hug her, which probably meant she didn’t like it; as Hina was learning, the boy _loved_ to show affection. “Twinkletoes,” the girl said, her expression and inflection dead-serious. “It’s been a while.”

“Oh, come on,” Aang teased. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

She socked his arm, smirking. “Sure I am, Twinkletoes. But was I ever gonna come out and say it?”

“Wait. _Twinkletoes?”_ Hina would’ve laughed if she hadn’t been so confused. “But… _why?”_

“Oh, right.” Aang turned back to Hina. “Hina, this is Toph Beifong, my old Earthbending master. We were friends during the war, and she lives with General Iroh now.” 

“ _Old?”_ Toph socked his arm again, this time decidedly less fraternally. “I’m younger than you!”

“Wait… _the_ Toph Beifong?” Hina’s eyes widened. “ _Invented Metalbending_ Toph Beifong?”

Aang hadn’t told her that _Toph Beifong_ was going to be here when they arrived, and privately, Hina was a little bit giddy at the prospect of an alliance with the self-proclaimed greatest Earthbender who’d ever lived.

Toph grinned. “That’s me,” she said proudly. “But who are _you?_ Aang’s new girlfriend?”

“Oh, Agni, _no.”_ Hina wasn’t sure what to think of that. “My name is Hina Oyama, and I’m-“

“My nephew’s closest ally,” Iroh said, throwing an arm around Hina as he returned to the group. “Hina is Zuko’s Spymistress and, from what I hear, his dear friend as well.”

“You’ve heard things?” Hina regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth – of _course_ Zuko told his beloved uncle everything – but she couldn’t help but ask.

“All of them good,” Iroh reassured her. “He told me you saved his life.”

  
_I’m the reason it was in danger,_ Hina wanted to add, but she didn’t. “I’m flattered that Fire Lord Zuko has spoken so highly of me,” she said stiffly, hoping the formality would disguise how flustered she felt. “I take it Aang let you know why we were co-“

“Wait, hold up, you saved Sparky’s _life?”_ Toph interrupted. “Is this something I should know about?”

“-ming,” Hina finished. “Sparky?”

“Toph does nicknames,” Aang said, as if it explained everything. “I’m Twinkletoes, Katara is Sugar Queen, Sokka is Snoozles, Zuko is Sparky-“

“I’m not gonna ask,” Hina said, shaking her head. “Anyway, General, did Aang tell you why we were here?”

  
“Something about a conspiracy?” Iroh replied. “Your actual purpose for coming here was rather unclear, but I don’t need to know the reason to host old friends-”

“We think someone’s trying to depose Zuko,” Hina interrupted, “and they’re operating out of the Earth Kingdom.”

“Is this related to the assassination attempt?” Iroh asked. He’d been informed of the attack, but Zuko had insisted that he be told as little as possible so as not to worry him. Privately, Hina thought that concealing such information from a man whose White Lotus membership gave an entire network of allies who’d stop at nothing to keep Zuko on the throne was a remarkably poor decision, but it had been a direct order.

“I don’t know,” Hina admitted. “The assassin may not have even been affiliated with the group we’re dealing with now. We assumed he was, but it’s possible that he was acting on his own.”

Iroh nodded, ushering them inside. “If he was not a member of the group you’re investigating-“

“The Phoenix Society,” Hina supplied.

“Right. If he wasn’t a member of the Phoenix Society, then why worry about them?”

“Because they’re still fomenting rebellion, and if we’ve learned anything from this attack, it’s that threats have to be dealt with while they’re still small enough to contain,” Hina said. “That, and the fact that we think they might be a cover-up for an even bigger operation.”

“What kind of a cover-up?” Toph asked.

“It’s possible that they aren’t actually Ozai loyalists,” Hina explained. “They claim to be, but none of the actions they’ve taken actually lend credence to the idea that they are. They seem more interested in creating opposition to Zuko’s rule than they do in actually restoring Ozai to power, and most of their activities don’t even make sense if you think of them as sympathizers.”

“Yeah, but how do you know that?” Toph challenged.

“Toph, this is her _job._ Of course she knows,” Aang admonished, earning him a smirk and another hit to the arm from his friend.

“It’s not just that,” Hina said. “Toph, I led the Liberation League for three years. I know how resistance movements work. No group that’s struggling just to stay alive is going to have the energy or the resources to expend on smokescreens.”

“I don’t follow, Madam Sneakretary,” Toph said critically, crossing her arms. “Please explain?”

“The Phoenix Society can’t afford to be doing things that aren’t going to advance its goals,” Hina said, unsure whether to be impressed or offended. _(Should I be glad that I have a Toph Beifong nickname now?)_ Regardless, Toph lived up to her reputation - that much was clear. “So if they were really backing Ozai, they’d only be doing things that got them closer to putting him back on the throne. None of what they’re doing right now would actually accomplish that.”

“Hm. So if them being Loserlord sympathizers-“

“Loserlord…?” Hina raised her eyebrows, looking to Aang for answers.

“Ozai,” he clarified. “Don’t ask.”

“Yeah, I got that much from context. What I’m wondering is – oh, never _mind.”_

“Anyway. If that’s just a cover-up, what do you think they’re actually doing?” Toph asked, taking a seat at one of the mismatched chairs crammed around Iroh’s kitchen table.

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Hina told her. “If you want to come along and help us find information that we need to keep, uh… _Sparky_ …safe, be my guest.”

Toph smirked. “Thought you’d never ask.”


	13. Rewriting the Agenda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hina, Aang, and Toph go undercover in Ba Sing Se's publishing district to figure out who might be behind the Phoenix Society propaganda. At his first meeting since the assassination attempt, Zuko's Council makes an ultimatum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE WHEELS ARE TURNING, Y'ALL. I mean, they've been turning, but now they're turning faster. Please enjoy!
> 
> I hope y'all liked that pun in the title bc...they're posing as writers...the Council 'rewrites' the course of Zuko's near-future life...hehe I think I'm funny sometimes. Please ignore me, I'm really not.

“But _sir.”_ Hina gritted her teeth, false tears pooling in her eyes. “I _deeply_ believe in the potential of this manuscript, and all it needs is for someone to be willing to take a chance on it.”

Unblinking, the publishing agent blinked back at her. He seemed rather perturbed by Hina’s insistence that he take a look at her “manuscript” – actually a book of Iroh’s haikus that they’d thrown together the night before – but nevertheless relented and took the scroll from their hands. _Go,_ Hina mouthed to Aang and Toph as soon as the man was distracted by her (really rather subpar, but she’d never tell that to Iroh) poems.

Though she wanted to lean back and breathe easy, Hina knew she couldn’t yet. This book had been their ticket into one of the city’s many publishing houses, but she had to remain in character as the agent inspected her work. Jangmi Hong, struggling author, had been Iroh’s idea: the character would gain their little group – herself, Aang, and Toph – entry into publishing houses. Since the Universal Font Decree made it difficult to get anything printed if it did not go through official channels, these state-approved publishing houses were the most plausible sources of the leaflets; with this book, and the inevitable string of rejections it accrued, no one would question their going to every single one of them. And _that_ meant that Aang and Toph, both of whom had extensive practice sneaking into places they shouldn’t have, would be able to look for useful intel.

  
(She thought their covers as newly-hired editors who were poking around on lunch break could’ve used work, but it had been pointless to press the matter.)

So, as Aang and Toph snuck around the lower floors of the Upper Ring Press headquarters, Hina stayed in character, crying what felt like a gallon of crocodile tears in an effort to move the agent to pity for this struggling would-be author. She’d run dozens of undercover missions with the Liberation League, some of them more involved than others (she’d been undercover in Gaoling as a turnip merchant for an entire month once), she’d never felt more ridiculous. It was undignified, making a spectacle of herself like this for the man’s favor, but if it held his attention, it was worth the humiliation.

“Hmm. Actually,” the agent said after flipping through the book of haikus, “with some revisions, this might sell.”

Hina’s eyes widened. _Wait, no!_ She’d been relying on its continually being rejected to give the group an excuse to visit other publishers after each one didn’t pan out. “Really?” she tried to pull off the thrilled reaction that Jangmi Hong would’ve had but couldn’t help but let a little bit of the Hina Oyama one slip in.

“Not all of it is as promising, and not all of them are even haiku, but some of these poems are truly brilliant,” he said, flipping through the sheets of paper bound with leather cord again. “This one about leaves? Astonishing.”

“Leaves…” Hina wracked her brain, trying to remember which one that was. She’d read the anthology, of course, in case someone were to ask about it, but she didn’t have it memorized. _Leaves, leaves…_ ” _oh!_ ‘Leaves From the Vine’?”

“Yes, that one.” The agent nodded. “I found it to be…deeply-felt. _Deeply_ profound.” He looked rapturous and Hina wondered if she should be worried about this. “Superbly crafted, expertly arranged, _heartrendingly_ personal-“

“You might want to lay off the adverbs,” Hina said, slipping out-of-character for a moment before a horrified expression that was all Jangmi crossed her face. “Sir!” she added hastily. _Well, there goes that. Unless…_

His expression shifted. “Hmph. So you’re _that_ type.”

_Yes!_ Hina could’ve cried with joy at the out she’d just accidentally given herself, but Jangmi had to cry for…other reasons, so she schooled her features again and feigned horror. “Sir, I am so sorry!” she cried, her hands fluttering about her face frantically. “I mean no disrespect-“

“And yet you give it,” he said, brushing her off. “Good day, Miss Hong. You’re dismissed.”

Though she really should’ve stayed in character until she was out of the publishing house, Hina couldn’t help but grin to herself. These older Upper Ring men were incurably stuffy; she should’ve know that offending the agent was the easiest way to talk him out of trying to publish her. _Now, to find Aang and Toph,_ she thought –

Which didn’t take long, as the latter two – who’d been going by Tian and Liu at this one, though she couldn’t be sure with the amount of times their aliases had changed today – came charging down the hall, decidedly _not_ undercover. “Tian? Liu?” Hina-as-Jangmi hissed, alarmed at the scene they were making. “What are you _doing?”_

“We got something,” Toph panted.

“This place says that it doesn’t print anything except novels,” Aang said, “but the paper they use is _exactly_ the same as the kind in the leaflets.”

“Okay, but anyone could have that paper,” Hina pointed out. “Do you have any actual evidence or just that?”

“Well, I don’t know about him, but _I_ do,” Toph said proudly. “ _I_ actually had the brains to ask about the paper, and apparently, they’re real proud of that stuff. It’s made from the pulp of some kinda tree I can’t remember, except that it’s supposed to be all smooth and stuff, and apparently they’re the only people in Ba Sing Se who print on it.”

“Well, that’s a lucky coincidence,” Hina muttered. “But how do you explain the novels-only thing?”

“It could be that they used the printing presses here without actually telling anyone,” Toph reasoned. “I mean, it would make sense, right? It’s easier than getting your own printing press. You got any idea how hard it is to pull that off?”

“You have a point,” Hina said, motioning for them to follow her down the hall. Even though it was deserted, she didn’t want to be having this conversation in such an exposed area. “So you think someone who has access to the printers here was able to use them to print off the leaflets without anyone knowing about it?”

“But how would they print off tens of thousands of them without anyone ever figuring it out?” Aang asked. “Wouldn’t that take a long time?”

“Yeah, it would,” Hina agreed. “They’d have to have access to the printers over a longer period of time, which means it was probably someone whose presence in the press room wouldn’t be suspicious.”

“So…” Toph prompted.

“An employee,” Hina finished. “We’re going to have to get our hands on a list of all the employees who work in the press room and go from there.”

“I think I know how we could do that,” Aang said. “It’s risky, and you’re not going to like it, but it would work.”

_This ought to be good._ “Shoot.”

“I could just tell them who I am,” Aang said. “Even Toph could, if it would be less suspicious. Someone with influence. If I tell them that I need a list of employees to do Avatar stuff, or that Toph needs it for her parents – they’re kind of a big deal – no one will question it.”

“That’s so exposed,” Hina protested. “It’d work, but we could kiss our anonymity goodbye.”

“He has a point, though,” Toph pointed out. “I think we should do it. But it needs to be me, not Aang.”

“How is that any better? You’re a known associate of the Avatar _and_ the Fire Lord,” Hina said. “If anyone does more than two seconds of digging, they’re gonna find that connection.”

“Yeah, but I _live_ here, and my connection isn’t as obvious as Aang’s,” Toph protested. “My parents do weird stuff like that all the time. It wouldn’t be that weird, and I could swear them to secrecy-“

“That never works, Toph.”

“-or just bribe them,” Toph said. “If I told my parents I needed money, I could pull it off.”

“Aren’t you not on speaking terms with your parents?” Hina asked. “This really doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

“Well, I think it does,” Toph said, and before Hina could protest any further, she ran off, leaving a disappointed Aang and a frustrated Hina in her wake.

“She’s going to get us all killed,” Hina muttered.

She couldn’t exactly protest, though, when Toph returned about fifteen minutes later with a smug smile and a list of press-room employees. “You’re welcome, Madam Sneakretary,” she said self-importantly. “Now what?”

“We background-check these people until we can’t anymore,” Hina said, excitement blooming in her stomach along with determination. _This is coming together!_ “We figure out political leanings, connections, families, ways they’ve been effected by the war – anything that could make someone want to weaken the Fire Nation. And when we have our candidates narrowed down, we find them and ask a few questions-“

“Ooh, we’re doing interrogations?” Toph cracked her knuckles. “I’m _great_ at those!”

Aang groaned. “Toph, _no.”_

Hina had no such qualms, though. “Yup. We’re doing interrogations.”

* * *

“Next on the agenda,” the Spokesman of the Grand Council intoned in the kind of purposefully-stuffy tone that made Zuko want to hurl himself out of a window, “are the Earth Kingdom reparations.”

_Oh, Agni, not this again._ “Sir, if I may?” Zuko stood. “I thought I had already made this abundantly clear, but that is _not,_ and has _never been,_ up for debate. We’re not renegotiating the reparations. End of discussion.”

“But Your Majesty-“

“ _End. Of. Discussion.”_ Normally Zuko would’ve at least tried to appease his Grand Council, but a week and a half away from meetings while he recovered had made a significant dent in his patience. “Now, what needs to be discussed next?”

“The appointment of new ministers, Your Majesty,” the Spokesman said. “It has come to the Grand Council’s attention that, while you were recovering, you created a position for which there is no precedent” – Zuko bristled, and he could understand Katara’s aversion to the word when it was used like _that –_ “and filled said position without the approval of the council. Councilmen Chiu and Lin have both raised objections to this appointment and wish to discuss-“

“That’s not up for debate either, Spokesman,” Zuko said coolly, though his fists clenched under the table. “I saw an area of need, and I created a position to address it. There is absolutely nothing to say that I _can’t_ do that should the nation’s needs change, which, since they end of the war, they obviously have.”

“Yes, but Your Majesty,” Councilman Chiu interjected, “you cannot do so _without Council approval.”_

“Show me where that’s written and I’ll be more than happy to comply,” Zuko shot back. “But if you’re trying to convince me that there’s not a dire need for social reform in this country, or that we don’t need a Minister of Social Affairs, you’re going to fail.”

“I agree, Your Majesty,” Councilman Lin said. “But what worries _me_ is the manner in which said position was filled.”

“I simply chose the most qualified candidate,” Zuko replied, curling and flexing his fingers repeatedly in a vain attempt to calm himself. _That’s an understatement. That position was created just for her._ “And after seeing the work that she’s already doing on hospital reform, I think I’m justified in that choice.”

“That isn’t the point, Your Majesty.” Councilman Lin met his eyes directly – _a challenge,_ Zuko realized. “The point is that appointing personal friends to positions of political power is _highly_ inethical, and we all _know_ that is the only reason that Lady Katara of the Southern Water Tribe is now an _official member of your cabinet_.”

Zuko tried not to wince; however qualified Katara was, it _had_ been a personal decision to appoint her, one that could easily be misconstrued as an act of patronage. He’d given her a position to convince her to stay, after all. But his blood still curdled at the insult. “While I understand your concerns, Minister Katara is _extremely_ qualified, and she has very little to gain from a political appointment,” he said, trying to keep his tone measured. “This is unlikely to gain any prestige for the Southern Water Tribe; it comes at great personal cost; and it’s bound to be a difficult position when everyone in this room is so opposed to anything that reeks of social reform-“

“Your Majesty, I _object_ to that!” Councilman Chiu shot out of his chair. _Breathe,_ Zuko told himself. _Breathe. He’s an idiot. Breeeathe. Not work burning the building down over, is it?_

“-so really, this position is more of a sacrifice than it is an opportunity for personal gain,” Zuko finished through gritted teeth. “Minister Katara accepted it because she wanted to help the people of this nation, and I am not going to hear any arguments against it. Next topic?”

Councilman Lin looked like he wanted to speak up again, but the Spokesman began to read from his agenda scroll again. “Next, the Grand Council has a proposition that they wish to discuss in light of the recent…attempt on Fire Lord Zuko’s life.”

_Oh, fantastic! Just what I needed to hear. How could they ever have known?_ Zuko wanted to slam his palm into his forehead until it stuck there. “Yes?” he prompted.

Councilman Huang – one of the slightly-less-obnoxious councilmen, and perhaps the one he hated least – stood up. “Your Majesty,” he began, wringing his hands, “it has come to the attention of the council that, should your life ever be endangered again, you have little by way of any sort of line of succession.”

“If something were to happen to me, the line of succession would pass to General Iroh, or to my mother,” Zuko replied, his stomach clenching. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, and he didn’t like it one bit. _Please, please don’t mention Azula,_ he begged. _Please._

“Yes, but that is not our concern,” Councilman Huang said. “Our concern is that all of your successors are significantly older than you. What you need, Your Majesty, is an heir.”

_Please, please mention Azula,_ Zuko thought, his stomach now full-on turning instead of clenching. _That would be better than what I think they’re implying now._ “I am aware that I will eventually be expected to have an heir,” he replied, fully aware that the entire council could see his face go paper-white at Councilman Huang’s announcement. “But I think that restoring relations with the other nations, and keeping the Fire Nation secure, take precedence at the moment.”

“But Your Majesty, that’s the issue,” Councilman Kang, another of his least-hated council members, spoke up. “We intended to let you wait until you wished to marry to discuss this, but as your recent assassination attempt shows us, we simply do not have the time. It is of the utmost importance that you marry and produce an heir as quickly as is possible.”

“That is why,” Councilman Huang finished, regret written all over his face, “we have decided that you have one year to marry.”

“ _What?”_ Zuko couldn’t hold back the rapidly-weakening dam of anger and confusion anymore. “Councilmen, you do not have the-“

“Actually, we do, Your Majesty,” Councilman Kang interrupted. “It’s an archaic law, but one that was never repealed. In the event of an attempt on the Fire Lord’s life, the council may mandate that he marry so that an heir can be produced to continue the line of succession should the same happen again.”

  
“In the name of the Fire Nation, Lord Zuko, we urge you to comply with haste,” Councilman Huang said. “I know it is unideal, and believe me when I say that it is a last resort, but you need to put the safety of the throne above all else until we can be sure that the situation has stabilized.”

  
Zuko’s head swam. _One year._ He’d always imagined he’d have time to marry – time to meet someone, time to court her, time to fall for her as thoroughly as he could.

(Or, if he were honest with himself, time to work up the courage to tell the only woman he’d want that with how he still felt about her.)

And now he’d have a year and a random noblewoman who could be anyone, for all he cared, because _she_ wasn’t interested, and so long as he could not choose her, who he chose instead couldn’t have been of less importance.

  
“I will consider your proposition,” Zuko said coldly. “Dismissed.”


	14. The Next Leg of the Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hina, Aang and Toph interrogate suspects; later, Hina tracks down one who might have information they need. On the way to Kyoshi Island for Sokka and Suki's wedding, Aang and Toph discuss matters of the heart, Katara and Ursa have a chat, and Zuko reveals why he's been so out-of-sorts. The Gaang finally reunites on Kyoshi Island.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be two chapters but I got lazy, so it's a lot of little tiny vignettes instead. This is because I was up until 2 A.M. last night writing the next chapter, which is about the actual wedding and ended up being 4.5k words instead of the standard 3k. I figured I'd earned a break. But that also meant I had a _lot_ of ground to cover, so please excuse the utter Lack of Pacing in this.

“I would _never_ use my employer’s printing presses for personal gain!”

Mr. Tan, a slight, pale man in glasses and an apron, looked up at them from the chair to which Toph had restrained him with her signature “earth-cuffs” with terror in her eyes. Aang hung back while Hina stood over him, arms crossed. “We’ve had the other four guys in your department say that already,” Hina told him, “and _one_ of you has to be printing propaganda leaflets.”

Toph teached for Hina’s arm, stilling her. “He isn’t lying,” she said. “We can let him go.”

“Oh.” Toph released the man from his earth-cuffs. “We’re deeply sorry for the inconvenience.”

“ _Inconvenience?”_ the man spat as he stood up and brushed the dust from his clothes. “You had me locked up and thinking I’d never seen the sun again!”

“It’s of the utmost importance that we explore all avenues,” Hina called as he left. “Someone is using your company’s presses to print propaganda. We need to know who.”

“It’s probably that good-for-nothing janitor,” Mr. Tan spat. “Always lurking around after hours…he can’t be up to anything good.”

Hina and Aang exchanged glances. _I didn’t even think about that,_ Hina realized. _But of course the after-hours janitor would have access to the presses!_ “What’s his name?” she asked.

“En-Lai Yi, I think,” Mr. Tan said. He spat. “Creep.”

  
“What did this En-Lai dude ever do to you?” Toph asked, crossing her arms.

“Lurks around the presses like a shadow while we work,” he said. “His job is to clean them, so he just… _stands there,_ staring at us until we finish. It’s creepy. And as if that weren’t strange enough, he doesn’t leave after his shift ends.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tan,” Hina said. “You have no idea how helpful that is.”

“Anything to get rid of that no-account,” Mr. Tan spat.

Hina turned to Aang after he left. “You think we have time for one last stop before you guys head off to Kyoshi Island?”

* * *

“Hey, you _better_ write me when you find something!” Toph dug her elbow into Hina’s ribs affectionately.

“Of course, Lady Beifong,” Hina teased. “It was nice to meet you, but you’ve got a boat to catch.”

Toph sighed. “Nice meeting you too, Madam Sneakretary,” she said, turning to the gangplank to board the boat. “I’ll see you inside, Twinkletoes.”

That left Aang and Hina, who stood in front of each other for a moment, unsure what to do. “Um…thank you, Aang,” Hina finally said.

“For what?” Aang asked, flushing. “I just did my job.”

“No, you didn’t, Aang,” Hina said, softening just a little. “You dropped everything to help me. No one asked you to do that.”

“Oh, uh…it was nothing,” Aang replied, smiling shyly. “I hope you find something on this guy.”

“Oh, shut up.” Hina crossed her arms. “Don’t even try to act like you’re not going to get right back into this as soon as you get back from the wedding.”

Aang smiled at that. “You’re probably right,” he agreed. “In that case…thank _you.”_

“For what?” Hina asked.

“I don’t know, just…being there,” Aang told her. “You’ve been a good friend, Hina.”

“So have you,” she said, stiffening in shock when Aang threw his arms around her with surprising force. She didn’t pull away, though, and in a moment she relaxed, awkwardly wrapping her arms around him in kind. He rested his chin atop her head ( _is_ everyone _taller than me?)_ and held on a little too tight, lingered a beat too long. “Now, don’t you _also_ have a boat to catch?”

Aang sighed and reluctantly let go. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Bye, Hina.”

“Goodbye, Aang,” she said, and as she watched him leave, he turned back and met her eyes with something she couldn’t quite pin down. It was a bizarre feeling, not knowing what something was – she’d gotten so _good_ at reading people. She shoved it to the back of her mind.

Aang joined Toph at the gangplank, picking up their luggage and disappearing into the belly of the boat. She punched his arm harder than usual, smirking.

_“What?”_ Aang asked, glaring at her even though she couldn’t see it.

  
“Someone’s even testier than usual.” Toph smirked. “You wanna tell me what _that_ was about?”

“What what was about?” Aang feigned ignorance as they passed their tickets to the ticket-taker and boarded, making their way down the ship’s labyrinthine halls to their stateroom.

“That whole scene on the dock,” Toph said. “You can try to deny it, Twinkletoes, but I could hear your heartbeat from all the way over by the gangplank when you and Hina were saying goodbye.”

  
“You…could?” Aang’s cheeks flushed and Toph smiled knowingly his rising heartbeat.

“Mm-hm.” Toph threw open the door to their stateroom. “So what gives?”

“Um…”

“You have a crush on her,” Toph finished flatly. “Honestly, Twinkletoes, I don’t know how you don’t get it. It’s just… _duh.”_

“No I-“

“You do, Twinkletoes. Trust me.”

“She’s older than me!” Aang protested. “Remember what happened _last_ time I liked an older girl?”

“Yeah, because Katara was like your older sister,” Toph pointed out. “Hina’s not. She obviously sees you as more of an equal than Katara did.”

“I’m still sixteen,” he pointed out. “She’d never go for a sixteen-year-old.”

“Yeah, but what’s your age gap, four years?” Toph asked. “Just give it a couple years. She might come around.”

“I don’t think-“

“Look, I don’t really care if it’s a good idea or not,” Toph sighed, flopping back against the bed. A cloud of dust rose around her and she coughed. “She’s way out of your league anyway. Just don’t try to tell me you don’t like her.”

“You,” Aang said, “are _terrible_ at consoling people.”

“What, like that’s news?” Toph smirked. “Just saying.”

This was going to be a _long_ trip.

* * *

“So, tell me what a Water Tribe wedding is like.” Ursa took a delicate sip of tea and glanced expectantly across the table at Katara. “Anything I need to know to attend one?”

“You’ll be all right, I think,” Katara replied. Ursa had been a last-minute addition to the guest list, as Sokka and Suki had wanted to meet her, and, like any good politician, she appeared to be casing the situation. “It’s pretty different from what I’ve heard about Fire Nation weddings, though.”

“So walk me through it,” Ursa requested.

“Um, so this one won’t be a traditional Southern Water Tribe wedding, since they’re also using some traditions from Kyoshi Island,” Katara started, “but usually, at a Southern Water Tribe wedding, the couple picks ten people who are close to them and bases the whole ceremony around that.”

  
“How so?” Ursa refilled her empty teacup with a deft grace Katara didn’t think she’d ever be able to match.

“So, basically, when they choose the people, the couple also has to pick ten virtues or qualities or…whatever, that would be useful to have in a marriage. One that each of the people has demonstrated for them. And they write vows that incorporate all ten of them – each writes their own – and then, after they say the vows, all ten people give a little speech about the virtue that the couple picked for them, and give advice. Then they kiss, and everyone goes off to the reception to dance and get blackout-drunk.”

Ursa smiled, charmed. “That’s a lovely tradition,” she replied. “So I would imagine you are one of the ten people?”

“Mm-hm. Well, they only have nine, because my dad and I are doing one for our mom, but…you know.”

Ursa dipped her head. She’d heard enough about Kya to know not to press. “So who else is going to be in the wedding party? Anyone I know?”

Katara looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember. “Zuko and Iroh, me, our dad, our grandma, Toph, Aang, Piandao – that was Sokka’s swordmaster during the war, I don’t know either – and Ty Lee.”

“Ty _Lee?”_ Ursa nearly choked on her tea. “As in, _Azula’s_ Ty Lee?”

“She’s a Kyoshi Warrior now,” Katara explained. “Since the end of the war, she and Suki have gotten really close. So yeah, she’s going to be in it.”

“Ty Lee, a Kyoshi warrior?” Ursa smiled. “That’s something I certainly never thought I’d live to see.”

“She’s a natural,” Katara replied lightly. “Now, can I ask _you_ something?”

“Of course, Lady Katara.”

“Why’s Zuko avoiding me?”

  
Ursa sighed. “That,” she said, “is a question you’re going to have to ask him yourself.”

* * *

A shudder ran up Hina’s spine as she approached the house where, apparently, Upper Ring Press’ night janitor worked. She couldn’t tell whether it was the night’s chill, the feeling of eyes following her through the darkness, or the idea of going alone to confront someone who could very well be either unstable, dangerous, or both, but something made her skin crawl. The streets of the Lower Ring were deserted, most of the lanterns flickering out; their light did little to make the streets less forbidding. But even so, she couldn’t help but notice a dark shape moving through the streets-

_Towards the house,_ she realized, taking off running after him on silent feet. When they both reached the door, Hina pressed herself against the side of the house, watching as the shape – a young woman dressed in head-to-toe black – knocked discreetly and the door opened to her. “This is for you,” she said as soon as a man poked his head out the door, holding out a scroll. “New orders.”

“New orders?” the janitor asked. “I thought I was just supposed to be printing-“

“ _Shh!”_

_Printing. We have our man,_ Hina realized, a thrill shooting up her from her toes and all the way through her body.

“Sorry, sorry.” The janitor’s voice was barely lower when he began to talk again. “Why the change of plans?”

“Someone’s onto us,” the woman said, glancing around the alley into which the house was tucked to make sure no one was around to hear her. “You know the drill. Burn the scroll the moment you’ve committed your orders to memory.”

_Covering their tracks. Smart._ Hina lay in wait, slowing her breathing as the man shut the door and waiting for the woman – a courier, it seemed – to make it far enough down the alleyway to be out of sight of the man’s house.

Then, in a movement too quick to draw suspicion, she had the woman in a headlock, hand wrapping around her mouth to muffle her voice. She kicked and protested and Hina nearly felt guilty as she landed an elbow to the side of her head, but she knew what she had to do. When the courier crumpled, she dropped to the ground beside her, searching for anything on her person that might let her know what had been in that man’s letter. 

  
Sure enough, she’d been carrying an identical scroll in a fabric compartment under her black robes, which Hina took and ran, though not before dragging the woman to a slightly-more-sheltered corner of the alley where, hopefully, she’d be safe until morning. Then, when she was out of sight, she unrolled the scroll and began to read.

Her hands began to shake as she read and the scroll slipped to the floor.

* * *

“I’ve been looking for you.” Katara crossed her arms accusingly as she approached Zuko. “Why are you avoiding me?”

He ran his hand through his hair miserably. “I’m not avoiding you, Katara.”

“You’re definitely avoiding me.” She joined him at the railing of the ship. “And I think I have a right to know why, so are you going to tell me what’s going on or not?”

“I’m _not-“_

“Zuko, I just can’t understand you!” Katara threw up her hands, suddenly angry. “I come here and you’re all _over_ me. Then I get a job and we start fighting all the time-“

“That’s just politics, Katara.”

“-and suddenly, you’re sulking all over the place and won’t even _talk_ to me. What did I do?” her eyes, previously so full of righteous anger, were wide and sad and desperate now. “Was it about the healthcare plan? Was it something I said?”

“It’s nothing to do with you,” he said without looking at her.

“Then what _is_ it?!?”

“My Council,” Zuko spat, finally giving in. “They’re forcing me to get married.”

Katara’s expression turned from sad to stricken. “ _What?”_

“Within a year,” he said miserably. “I have to pick someone to marry within a year to secure the line of succession. They said it could be anyone, but I already know they’re going to parade a bunch of vapid noblewomen in front of me and I’ll just have to pick the least-terrible of them, and then I’m going to have to spend my whole life with a woman I don’t love.” _When the woman I_ do _love is standing right next to me,_ he wanted to add, but he didn’t. “So you can understand why I’m upset right now, I’m sure.”

Katara couldn’t even speak, wordlessly raising her hand to her throat in a gesture whose meaning he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

  
“I know,” he said, commiserating, before she turned with the tiniest of nods and turned to leave, disappearing.

Disappearing as she’d probably do _forever_ when he married.

* * *

Toph, Aang, and Iroh were the last to reach Kyoshi Island, having traveled furthest, and that meant that a welcome delegation had had time to form by the time they arrived. When they stepped off the boat, a line of familiar faces – Sokka and Suki, beaming; Hakoda and Kanna, reserved but clearly happy to see them; Ursa, tentatively excited; Katara, forcing a smile, and Zuko, looking as if he wanted to the same but didn’t know how – was waiting to greet them.

“It’s so good to see you guys!” Suki cried as they approached. She pulled Aang in for a hug (trying that with Toph would’ve been a death sentence), then Iroh, and sent them on down the line, each of their friends greeting them with all the warmth of dear friends parted for, in some cases, years. Toph, who didn’t care for the idea of being passed down a line of hugs, hung back, teasing Sokka and Suki relentlessly; Zuko clung to his uncle like a lifeline when it was his turn. The new arrivals fell into step with the rest of the group once introductions and reintroductions had ended, getting to the catching-up they’d been waiting to do for so long.

“I got your hawk, Nephew,” Iroh told Zuko, laying his palm against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” he said miserably. “I can’t imagine a worse time to be at a wedding.”

“That must be difficult,” Iroh sighed. “But perhaps this is a blessing in disguise?”

“Being forced to marry a woman I don’t love? How is that a blessing in _anything?”_

“Because it could force you to consider communicating with the woman you _do_ love,” he said, gently nudging Zuko with his shoulder. “See?” he inclined his head in Katara’s direction. She was nodding at something her brother had said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “She doesn’t look happy, either.”

“That’s not why she’s upset,” he huffed, digging his hands into his pockets and desperately hoping it was.

Iroh shot him a _you-don’t-know-that_ look. Oh, he knew, all right.

“The wedding is tomorrow,” Iroh pointed out. “Just saying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really just throwing in these shameless Haang crumbs for the Waiting Gang group chat now, whoops. What do you think was in the letter that Hina intercepted? How will Zuko and Katara resolve this ~tension~? Let me know :)


	15. Til Death Do Us Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka and Suki's wedding, or: why sad Katara and Mopey Zuko should never be allowed at an open-bar event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the one where we take a break from Plot to just have some fun, pining, and copious amounts of alcohol at the Sukka wedding I refuse to believe we didn't get in canon. It's a mess, but I LOVE THIS ONE. Have fun, kids ;) 
> 
> Content warnings: a LOT of drinking, lightly implied newlywed sexytimes. 
> 
> Also. I very obviously made these wedding traditions up bc who’s canon? They don’t even exist in any real world culture that I know of. But I Love Them.

It was hard, from the place beside Zuko where Katara had been seated for the portion of the ceremony that she wasn’t participating in, not to lean into his arm. Hard not to savor every moment of this occasion – beautiful weather; Sokka in Water Tribe garb with a green sash around his waist and Suki in a modified, gold-ornamented form of her Kyoshi Warrior garb, standing under a gazebo in front of a sea of familiar faces; the rather excessive flower arrangements Iroh had managed to get together crowding evey available surface – with the person she cared for most in the world. Hard not be sucked into the romance of the moment as her father tied a white cord around Sokka and Suki’s wrists and they turned to each other, hands clasped, to recite the words that would bind their hearts as the cord had their hands. 

Katara had always loved Water Tribe weddings, but this one, though it had incorporated aspects of a Kyoshi Island one – the cord, and the copious amount of rice that seemed to be involved in the ceremony – was the first she’d actually been able to participate in. She was practically bouncing in her seat as she waited for the Blessing of the Newlyweds, her absolute favorite part of any wedding. But they had vows to recite first.

“I, Sokka, promise you, Suki, with all that I have and all that I am,” Sokka started, his voice thick with emotion, “to enter this marriage with joy, choose our next steps with wisdom, to forge our paths forward with confidence, to look to our future with hope, to selflessly put your needs above my own, to foster peace and resolve conflicts with patience and integrity when I cannot, and to act in unity with you to…” he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose to regain his composure. “Sorry, sorry. Act with-“ he stopped again with a very obvious sniffle. “Gaah, _sorry,_ I can’t…”

Suki squeezed his hands reassuringly, whispering something only he could hear. He nodded, and after a moment to compose himself, he finished, “act in unity with you as we lead our family. I swear to you that I will uphold and cherish these promises as long as we live.”

_There you go,_ Katara thought she could hear Suki whisper to her brother, and this time _she_ was the one who had to wipe away tears. She’d helped him write those vows and she’d never been prouder, though the moment was bittersweet. Zuko appeared to notice and placed his hand atop hers comfortingly; she gladly took it, turning her palm and lacing her fingers through his.

“I, Suki, promise you, Sokka,” Suki started, jolting Katara out of her thoughts (and the distraction of holding Zuko’s hand), “with all that I have and all that I am, to always find joy in my love for you, to maintain my confidence in you through struggles, to help you make wise decisions and trust your wisdom in helping me make my own, to remain hopeful on dark days, to selflessly give to you in any way I can, to find peace in you when the world is in turmoil, to be patient with you in your failings, to stay true to you with integrity, to live with you in unity as a partner, lover, and friend, and to lead my people and yours alongside you.” She didn’t cry, but she paused to take a deep breath, her face glowing. “I swear to you that I will uphold and cherish these promises as long as we both live.”

“Having promised each other to uphold these virtues,” Hakoda said after taking amoment to regain his own composure (he was positively beaming, though tears swam in his eyes), “the couple will now be blessed and advised by individuals who have shown them those virtues throughout their lives. Advisors?”

The row of eight seated in the front stood, making their way towards the couple in the order they’d present their blessings in. Some were crying (Iroh, Kanna, and Ty Lee); others grinning from ear to ear (Toph, Aang, Hakoda); others still were impossible to read (Zuko, Piandao). And Katara herself…well, she was feeling a little bit of all of those things as the first presenter, Ty Lee, made her way up to the platform where they stood and grabbed a scoop of rice from the silver basin where it had been set up for easy access.

“You guys, _congratulations!”_ Ty Lee crowed, her voice a little wobbly with tears but clear and enthusiastic nonetheless. “I’m _so_ thrilled for you, and I’m so honored that you picked me. Um, so…’joy’ was the virtue you chose for me,” she continued. _She’s totally winging this,_ Katara realized; usually, in the Water Tribes, such speeches were more formal. “And I guess my advice about that is just that what you guys have is special, and honestly, not a day should go by that you don’t remember that and just…feel _overjoyed_ that you get to be together. Gratitude. That’s the word I was looking for. Just keep remembering how lucky you are to have someone who knows and understands and loves you like that and you’ll always have joy, even if things are hard.” There were tears shining in her eyes as she gracefully tossed the rice from the silver rice-scoop in an arc towards the couple.

Piandao, who was next in line, patted Ty Lee’s arm as he took his place in front of the couple and she retreated back to her chair, full-out bawling now. “Congratulations, Master Sokka, Suki,” he said, bowing formally. “I have to admit I would not have expected to have been given the honor of being chosen for such a ceremony, but I will nonetheless try to give you some useful advice about patience that I’m certain Iroh could put better than I could.” He chuckled. “Conflict is inevitable in a marriage; patience determines whether it destroys or strengthens your relationship. Always remember that everyone has foibles that must be taken into account; know what your spouse’s are, and learn to be patient with them.” He tossed his rice and Katara couldn’t help but hide a giggle behind her hand at the way Sokka ducked to avoid it.

Kanna approached the couple next, taking the liberty of walking a few steps closer to pinch Sokka’s cheek. Suki laughed and he shot her a fond glare. “I can’t imagine why you asked me to speak about unity,” Kanna started, “but I will try to enlighten you. The world’s going to throw a lot at you, and you’re going to need each other to get through it. You will have to lean on each other, yes, but you would also be well-served to be united through it all – know that your battles will be fought together and your goals and dreams will be shared. A good marriage helps you face the world, but only if there is unity.”

_A good marriage helps you face the world._ The words sank into Katara’s stomach like a stone. She’d been doing well not to think about marriage outside of the context of this one, but with those words, she couldn’t help stealing a glance at Zuko.

_I wish you could have that. I wish_ we _could have that._

Iroh was next, speaking on wisdom; next to his vacant place in the line, Toph smirked. She’d been placed there on purpose because the couple had known how Iroh tended to carry on and she was perhaps the only one with the boldness to cut him off if he were taking too long. Sure enough, she approached before he was finished talking, prompting him to throw his rice long before the conclusion of his speech about the need for wise decision-making in a marriage.

“Confidence. Pretty good virtue to get stuck talking about, I think,” Toph began. “So. First off, congrats on the wedding, Fan and Sword. Second, I don’t really know what I’m talking about, so you might wanna take this with a grain of salt, but I thought you were kind of crazy when I heard you were getting married all of the sudden. But then it hit me.” She paused, as if to let the gravitas soak in. “You weren’t crazy, you were _confident._ You knew it was right. And that’s pretty cool, I think.”

“That’s not really advice,” Sokka replied, but everyone could see that there were tears in his eyes (and not just from the grain of rice she’d expertly aimed at his face) as she vacated her spot to Aang.

Aang, as expected, took up more time with congratulations and anecdotes than he ought to have, but it was all so sincere that no one would even begin to think of stopping him. “Peace is hard, we all know that,” he told them. “But…it’s a choice we can make. By choosing to let things go and by…just being kind. By putting others’ needs above our own wants. I know you guys can do that.”

Now it was Zuko’s turn, and Katara’s breath caught in her throat. _Don’t think,_ she thought, willing herself not to cry, but it didn’t work in the slightest as Zuko began to talk about staying true to one another.

_Stay true to me,_ she wanted to say. _I know you’re not mine, but you might’ve been. Stay true to me._

But she couldn’t. So, with a throat full of unshed tears, she walked up to the dias and started the speech she’d rehearsed so many times.

  
“I was a little offended when you guys picked ‘hope’ for me,” Katara began, laughing through the tears that wanted to fall. “But it’s important. And I love you too much not to tell you that…” she took a calming breath. “That you’ve got to remember that, as long as there’s a tomorrow, things can get better. In your lowest moments, hope is going to tell you that the most beautiful sunrises follow the darkest nights, and…and…” she stopped, catching her breath and wiping away fast-falling tears with the sleeve of her dress. “And that…bitter times are what make the sweet ones so good, and…just please, never let go of that.” Without thinking, she reached forwards to hug her brother; Suki joined in on the other side, and they wrapped her up in their arms as she cried. “It’s not going to be easy to make this work, but if you renew your hope as often as you can, you’ll never run out of energy to keep trying.”

She could barely see the rice she threw through her tears and when she returned to her old seat, Zuko squeezed his arm. “Are you all right?” he whispered.

  
“Not really, but it’ll pass,” she admitted.

  
(It was the most honest she’d been all day.)

He let her lean into his shoulder, discreetly stroking her hair and back, and she’d never been more grateful and more resentful of the same thing at once in her entire life. His tender attention, his gentle touch, the way he’d known exactly what she needed – it was all too _much,_ and Katara knew she should’ve been paying attention to her father’s speech on leadership, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was only when he came to get her, urging her to get up with a gentle hand on her shoulder, that Katara snapped out of it.

  
They had one last virtue to deliver.

“I know you would’ve wanted your mother to be here today more than almost anything,” Hakoda began, already fighting back tears as he stood with one arm around his daughter. “But we’ll do our best to give her a place ourselves.”

“Honestly, Sokka, this one is hard for me to say, because I really, _really_ don’t want anything to happen to you,” Katara said, managing to keep her voice steady by some miracle. “But…when I think about love, I think about mom. Being willing to lay down your life for someone…not a lot of people could really say that describes them. But that’s what love _is.”_

“Your mother was the most selfless person I knew,” Hakoda continued. “And not just in the way she would do anything protect her children. She was someone who rarely put herself above anyone else in _any_ way. And that’s the kind of love I hope you have for each other.”

“The idea loving anyone that much is scary, but it’s supposed to be,” Katara said. “There’s something about that kind of love that just…defies logic. It doesn’t even make sense, but without it, I wouldn’t be here. And…I guess what we’re saying is that we – and mom would, too – want you to love each other that much.”

“And we want you to know how proud Kya would be of you both,” Hakoda finished, following his daughter’s example and wrapping the couple into a fierce embrace. “Just like we are.”

  
Katara hung back, apprehensive, before Sokka glared at her, and she knew exactly what that meant. Even though she’d hugged him minutes ago, she joined the circle and was quickly crushed by the tangle of limbs that surrounded her as Sokka and Suki frantically tried to untie the cord binding their wrists (which had to be done before they could close the ceremony with a kiss) while holding onto Hakoda, Katara, and each other. She couldn’t help but smile, bittersweet as the moment was.

“I know there are official words I’m supposed to say to this,” Hakoda said as they backed away, giving the couple some space. “But I won’t bother, because I can tell you’re dying to get to the next part.” He paused to give Katara a chance to take a seat and then turned back to the couple. “You may kiss.”

  
And they did, to a chorus of cheers and a fresh round of tears from at least half of the attendees.

* * *

“Zuko, my _man,_ my _buddy!”_

Zuko stifled a groan as Sokka, already sloshed halfway off his feet twenty minutes after the end of his own wedding ceremony, flopped down beside him at one of the long tables set up all around the courtyard and threw his arm around his shoulders. “Congratulations, Sokka,” he said drily. “I see you’ve been enjoying yourself.”

“Man, this is the best day of my _life!”_ he raised the cup of mulberry wine he was holding above his head, some of the liquid sloshing out indiscriminately over the two of them as it flew. Zuko reached up and steadied his hand before he could lose his grip and dump the whole glass over his head. “I got _married,_ man. I can’t believe I got _married!”_ he began to laugh and soon he couldn’t control it, laughing until he gasped for air and grabbed at his sides. “SUKI! HEY, SUKI!”

_Oh, dear Agni, this is going to be a long night._

“Yes, dear?” Suki sighed fondly, placing her hands on her hips as she approached them from the other end of the courtyard, where she’d been talking to Toph and Katara.

  
“You’re just so _pretty,”_ he drawled, a dopey smile spreading across his face completely unbidden. “I can’t believe someone so _pretty_ and _deadly_ likes _me.”_

Suki rolled her eyes, but the way she looked at Sokka – her _husband,_ which was never going to stop sounding a little strange to Zuko – was nothing short of adoring when she sat down beside him on the bench. “You have your fair share of charms, husband,” she teased, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “Even if you did challenge your sister to a drinking contest and got yourself completely wasted ten minutes into your own wedding reception.”

“And I won!” he cried, raising his glass again (Zuko ducked to dodge the inevitable splash of win) as he leaned in for a sloppy kiss that, nevertheless, Suki was more than happy to reciprocate.

“No, you didn’t,” Suki teased, stealing another kiss. “You really need to stop forgetting that Katara could drink any of us under the table.”

“No she can’t,” Sokka whined.

“Oh, I think she can.” Zuko took a sip of his own glass of wine and sighed heavily. “Scratch that. I _know_ she can.”

“Oh?” Suki raised her eyebrows. “Do you happen to have personal experience in that area?”

“No, but it’s _Katara.”_ He sighed, downing the remainder of the contents of his glass. “She can do a lot of things better than most people.”

“True,” Suki said, sending him a _bear-with-me_ look as Sokka attempted to pull her into his lap, clinging to his wife like a sleepy child would to a stuffed animal.

“Waterbending, obviously,” Zuko said, unconcerned that she hadn’t asked him to continue. “Sparring. Fixing problems. Talking to people. Social reform. Looking good in red. Tolerating cold. Breaking my heart.”

Suki’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Zuko,” she started cautiously, “how many drinks have you had?”

“Five,” Zuko said matter-of-factly. “Why? I’m obviously not drunk.”

“You just acknowledged your extremely obvious feelings for Katara out loud, Zuko,” Suki pointed out. “You _have_ to be. And _five drinks?_ By _yourself?”_

“Toph’s probably a murder drunk, Sokka is wasted already, Aang and my mom won’t drink, Uncle would tell awkward stories about me as a baby, and Katara probably won’t talk to me, so yeah,” he said, “by myself.”

“You should talk to her,” Suki suggested. “I mean, there’s a reason they call it liquid courage, right?”

“But I have to get married,” Zuko protested, sighing heavily as he flagged down a waiter carrying more wine. He downed his refill in two swigs and immediately called the waiter back for another. “What’s the point? She’d never marry me-“

“I don’t follow, bud,” Suki said, shifting uncomfortably to squirm out of Sokka’s iron grip. _He’s going to regret this later,_ Suki couldn’t help but think. “Who said anything about marriage?”

“The Council,” he told her. _Oh, he’s feeling it now,_ Suki observed. Zuko, the group’s resident Sad Drunk, treated every excursion like group therapy when he’d had enough to drink. “I almost died, so now I have to get married within a year. It’s the law.”

“Can they-“

“Apparently,” Zuko said miserably. “And then I have to make some heirs, and Katara doesn’t like me like that anymore, so now I have to marry someone I don’t love, and I’m gonna spend my whole life being sad about how it coulda been Katara but it wasn’t ‘cause I wasn’t good enough for-“

“Zuko, I’m probably a terrible friend for telling you this, but she hasn’t shut up about how upset she is about this stupid marriage ultimatum since she got here.”

“Huh?” his eyes clouded over with bewilderment. “She hasn’t?”

“Nope.” Suki had to pause to bat away her husband, who appeared to be trying to kiss – well, something in the general region of the neck, though it was pretty unclear _what_ he was trying to reach with the kind of aim he had after ten shots of fire vodka – in a decidedly _not_ -public-friendly manner. “She thinks you’re going to marry some fussy Fire Nation noblewoman with no personality and be miserable.”

“She’s probably right,” Zuko said, slumping forwards. “’m gonna marry whoever they throw at me and ‘m gonna hafta see Katara every day at work an’ think about how I wanna be with her instead-“

“You wanna marry me?”

“Katara, honey, you need to sit down.” Ty Lee’s voice shortly followed the first one – Katara’s, almost unrecognizable in her drunken enthusiasm ( _the drinking contest,_ Suki remembered, wondering why she hadn’t stopped her husband and sister-in-law from getting drunk halfway to the Spirit World within ten minutes of her marriage) – as the two came into view, Hina supporting a wobbling Katara on one side with Toph on the other. “You can’t even walk properly.”

  
“No, I needa talk to Zuko!” she insisted, breaking free of Ty Lee’s restraining arms to stumble towards the table where Zuko was sitting. She practically fell into Zuko’s lap as she tried to take a seat next to him, which Suki took as her cue to remove Sokka (she had to carry him – he was _delighted_ with this development) and leave them the floor.

“I heard tha’,” she drawled. “I heard all ‘a tha’.”

“Oh.” Even inebriated, Zuko had the dignity to look sheepish. “Sorry.”

“No, ‘s good,” Katara said, leaning towards him with a huge grin on her face. “I liked it. ‘ve been waiting ‘long time to hear tha’ stuff.”

“To hear what stuff?” Zuko was beet-red now and the alcohol had nothing (well, _little)_ to do with it.

“That you wan’ me,” she said, leaning backwards to flop against him. He nearly fell backwards but caught himself, bracing her in his arms in case he lost his balance and they fell. “An’ you still feel like I do.”

  
“Oh?”

  
“Mm-hm.” She turned her face up to smile at him, aiming her lips for his cheek and winding up somewhere near the curve of his jaw instead. He couldn’t help but shiver at the feather-light brush of her lips against his skin. “I was sad when you tol’ me you were gonna get married, y’know tha’?”

“I was too,” Zuko admitted. “I don’t wanna marry a stuffy noblewoman, Katara. If I wanted that I’d have stayed with Mai.”

She looked up at him expectantly.  
  


“What I want,” he said, taking the cue, “is _you.”_

Her eyes lit up, and for a moment the exaggerated enthusiasm of her features melted into a smile so radiant and a look so adoring that it would’ve knocked Zuko clean into the next decade if he’d been sober. “I wan’ that too,” she said, taking the lapels of his (horribly uncomfortable and irrationally ornate) robes in her clumsy hands and playing with them absentmindedly. “I wanna have a wedding like this an’ I wanna kiss you all the time and-“ she froze, thinking. “I wanna kiss you _now,”_ she realized, the derpy grin spreading back across her face. “Can I kiss you now?”

“The last time this happened, you ran away,” Zuko whined. “And now _I_ gotta.”

Katara pouted. “But _why?”_

“We’re drunk, Katara,” he drawled. “I can’t kiss you while we’re drunk.” Zuko hiccuped. “’s not honorable.”

“You and your stupid _honor!”_ Katara swatted his chest, still pouting. “I wanna _kiss_ you!”

“Well, I wanna kiss you too!” Zuko said a little too loudly. Most of the guests turned to stare. “You know what? I’ve wanted to kiss you since Ba Sing Se! But I _didn’t,_ ‘cause I thought you didn’t want that, and now you tell me you _do_ and I _can’t_ ‘cause you’re drunk halfway to the Spirit World and I can’t kiss a girl who doesn’t even know what she’s doing!”

“But I _do_ know what ‘m doing!” Katara protested, her voice rising to match his. “Why _can’t_ you?”

“Because I’m in _love_ with you! And love isn’t _like_ that!”

Katara took one look at him – flushed, panting, standing in front of her – and began to cry.

“Wait, no,” he said, his voice pained. “I didn’t mean to-“

  
“We need to get you to bed, honey,” Ty Lee interjected, throwing a worried glance at Zuko before taking Katara’s arm and leading her away. “You’re gonna feel better after you sleep this off.”

“ _No!”_ she protested, thrashing against Ty Lee, but this time she didn’t overpower her. Ursa, too, followed behind them, murmuring something comforting to a still-sobbing Katara as they walked her in the direction of the inn they’d booked out for the wedding guests.

“I really did wanna kiss you,” Zuko murmured, holding out his hand as if to grasp her – grasp this one moment of _yes_ in a string of _no’_ s that grew every day – and then pressing it to his lips.

  
Lips that could’ve been kissed by hers.

  
“Stupid Fire Vodka.”

* * *

Katara awoke with a pounding headache to see Toph, who’d slept in the second bed across the room from her, peering into her eyes. “Toph?” she squinted, recoiling at the light. “What are you doing?”

  
“I’ve never seen you get that sloshed, Sugar Queen,” she said, equal parts worried and amused. “You feeling that this morning?”

“ _Ungh.”_ She grunted, hauling a pillow over her face to keep the light out. “What _happened_ last night? It’s all so… _fuzzy.”_

“Sokka challenged you to a drinking contest,” she said. “You won, of course.”

Katara grinned. “’Course I did. Anything else?”

“Um…” Toph paused, as if considering how much to share. “Nope. Nothing I can remember.”

“Really?” Katara raised the pillow enough to talk. “I could’ve sworn something else happened.”

“Nah, just the drinking contest,” Toph replied. “You’re probably remembering stuff wrong. Eleven shots of Fire Vodka in five minutes will do that to you.”

“ _Eleven?”_

“Sokka did ten.”

“ _Nice,”_ Katara said appreciatively. “But...my head..." she grimaced. "I’m gonna sleep and pretend I don’t feel like my brain is on fire.”

* * *

There was a basin of water, a glass, and a towel by Zuko’s beside when he woke, and though he was alone, he made a point to thank Uncle Iroh – where _was_ he? – for the consideration when he returned.

Because he felt like _death itself._

He could barely remember last night, truthfully, save for the ceremony, when he’d been sober, and the sticky sweetness of mulberry wine (he knew for a fact he’d tasted it over and _over)._ But he had a strange sensation that something had happened that he wasn’t quite recalling.

“I’ll ask Uncle later,” he muttered to himself, filling the glass with water and drinking it down greedily.

Before that, he had a headache to nurse.

* * *

“And you’re saying neither of them remembers it _at all?”_

Sokka sat across the carpet from Suki (his _wife!_ He was never going to get sick of saying that), spreading butter on the outside of a roll (he’d never understood people who insisted that a roll needed to be opened before it was buttered). His own headache had passed, more or less, and now he was eager to fill his stomach after a long day and a longer night.

“No!” Suki looked as shocked as he was. “Toph said Katara didn’t remember anything about last night, and Iroh told me that Zuko asked him what had happened. Seriously. They were _that drunk.”_

“Oh, come _on!”_ Sokka cried, throwing up his hands and accidentally flinging a butter knife into the armoire behind him. “We _finally_ get him to ‘fess up and they just _forget it?”_

“They’re impossible,” Suki sighed in agreement. “Honestly, at this rate, Operation: Wedded Bliss is looking pretty doomed.”

“That what we’re calling it?” Sokka grinned. “Nice name. Would’ve thought it was dumb yesterday, but I’ve come to appreciate the whole wedded-bliss thing in the last sixteen hours.” He smirked in her direction.

“Sokka, I’m in the middle of _breakfast,”_ Suki whined. But he knew it was for show.

“Mm-hm, I noticed that.” Sokka leaned across the space between them to press a quick peck to her lips – just to hold himself over until he could get something more substantial – before crawling closer, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Rolling her eyes fondly, Suki leaned into the inevitable kiss and locked her ankles around his waist. “But here’s the thing, Suki.”

“Yes?” she asked between kisses, amused and fond and melting and amorous all at once.

“I’d kinda prefer to enjoy _my_ wedded bliss before I worry about theirs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toph, the one who knows when people are lying, is the biggest liar here...O The Irony(tm).


	16. The Plot Thickens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Katara, who still remember nothing, have a late-night chat; Hina and Aang catch each other up on Phoenix Society intel (...okay, and some hot gossip, too) and make a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is this turning into a Haang story? Hnggghhhh. I swear, this is ZUTARA-CENTRIC. I SWEAR. Eh, I can have both, right? 
> 
> I'm also aware that this plot gets progressively more ridiculous as it goes, but still, the show has its goofy moments, too, so I'm just going for it.

Three days into her return to the Fire Nation, Katara hadn’t slept a wink since stepping off the boat. That, she realized as she thumbed through endless legal documents, trying to ensure that her argument was nothing short of airtight, was a norm she would simply have to adjust to; it would not be changing anytime soon. Getting her healthcare reform plan past the council would take night after night of exhaustion and backbreaking work, and though she was willing, she’d never been so tempted to drift off in her life.

“You still up?” she turned from a dusty scroll on military expenditures at the sound of Zuko’s voice at the door, still thick with sleep as he made his way into the study he’d offered her. He’d been sleeping, clearly, given the loose trousers and robe he wore (without anything underneath – that alone was enough to jolt Katara out of her sleepy stupor), and he padded over and pulled up a chair on the other side of her desk before she could even answer.

“Sleep is for the weak. Make yourself at home,” she drawled, her profound exhaustion written in every line of her face. “I know why _I’m_ still up, but why are _you?”_

(Privately, she warmed at his presence, grateful for the détente they’d reached after the wedding; neither could remember much of what had happened at the reception, but she _did_ know that they’d had to hold each other’s hair back while they suffered the consequences of too much fire vodka and mulberry wine…repeatedly…and that sort of thing had a way of easing tensions. He’d been almost normal again, and she’d missed that dearly.)

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said.

“I know you’re lying, Zuko,” Katara replied, not even glancing up from the documents she was reading over (or…pretending to). “You look like you’ve been asleep. Was it a nightmare?”

“More of a waking one,” he said. “And I wasn’t lying. I _was_ asleep, but something woke me up, and my brain started walking me through all the ways that tomorrow could go wrong, and I couldn’t go back to sleep.”

“Oh.” Something infinitesimal but incredibly noticeable shifted in the room. “I’m sorry. I’ll be here all night, so you can stay with me as long as you want.”

“I’m not bothering you?” he asked. “I mean…you’re working.”

“Zuko, come on.” She finally looked up, giving him a placating smile. “I’m never too busy for my best friend.”

  
“Thanks, Katara,” he sighed, settling into the chair. Wordlessly, Katara got up, crossed the room to an armchair in the corner, fetched the blanket draped over its back, and handed it to Zuko, only to return to tuck it around his shoulders after watching him struggle with it.

“If you want, I can carry you to the armchair when you fall asleep,” she teased when she sat down and resumed her work.

“I think that might cause a scandal,” he responded, his whole face lighting up at the familiarity of it all – late nights, inhibitions lowered by a lack of sleep, the gentle ribbing of two people who knew and loved each other a little too well. “So, in other words…yes, please.”

“Hm. Will do.” Katara scribbled something down on a scroll. “So, are you going to tell me what you’re worried about or not?”

“You’re working. I didn’t want to distract you.”

“Spirits, Zuko, do you have any idea how badly I want to be distracted right now?” she groaned. “ _Please._ This is mind-numbing.”

“Welcome to life in politics,” he sighed. “So, you know how my council decided to get me to look at other women – I mean, _women,_ why would I…oh, never mind.”

“Oh?” Katara’s eyebrows shot up. “ _Other_ women as in-“

“Forget it, Katara.” His face went as red as his robe. “So they’re trying to get me to look at potential wives – Agni, I _hate_ thinking of them like that – by throwing a bunch of parties I don’t have the time or the budget for, right?”

“I’m aware,” Katara said. “They’ve been fitting me for a gown for the first one since we got back.”

Zuko looked like he’d choked on something. “They have?”

Katara nodded. “Your head seamstress has been chasing me around with a measuring tape and a pincushion every time I’ve come out of this office for three days. She’s insatiable.”

“Oh.” Zuko managed to recover his composure slightly. “Well, I was thinking about how the first one is tomorrow, and then worst-case scenarios started running through my head. The council breathing down my neck taking notes while I dance with women I’ve never even met, women throwing themselves at me and me not knowing how to tell them to stop, getting yelled at because I spent the whole night sulking in a corner.”

“Now why would you do that?” Katara asked, her tone a little too sharp and a little too flat all at once. “It’s a huge party full of beautiful women who are all desperate to get in your good graces. Isn’t that a-“

“It’s a nightmare is what it is!” Zuko pounded his fist against the desk and the cup of water Katara had placed there rattled. “I don’t _want_ any of them, Katara. I already know that. And knowing I’m going to get forced to pick one makes me want to be sick.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, swallowing bile. She’d have given anything to keep him from facing this – her position, her prospects, herself-

(That last one wouldn’t be much of a sacrifice, truthfully. Not when the one thing she could never say she wanted was to be his entirely.)

“It’s fine,” he said flatly. “Now, were you going to tell me about that plan of yours or not?”

“Zuko, we’re talking about _you_ here, not me.”

“Yeah, and as your boss, this is my business too.” He smiled for the first time in a while. “So please, enlighten me.”

Katara sighed fondly and unrolled the scroll on which she’d been taking down notes. “So, the first leg of the plan is to secure a wealthy ally who’s willing to fund the experiment,” Katara explained. “I’ve been reaching out to noble families who’ve shown interest in reform in the past and I have a couple of ideas.”

“If you can get _anything_ out of those nobles, you’re a miracle worker,” Zuko muttered. “Anyway. Who do you have lined up?”

“Well, first off, the Liang family looks promising,” she began. “The matriarch, Rixian, is a well-known philanthropist. She’d probably jump at the chance to show off her generosity if we asked.”

“Good choice.” Zuko looked impressed, which Katara couldn’t help but feel a little swell of pride at. “Any backups?”

“Yeah, I was looking into the Xiao family, too,” Katara said. “I was talking to one of your advisors about this, and apparently the Xiaos hate the Liangs, so if they hear that the Liangs turned down the offer, the Xiaos will probably jump on it just to rub it in their faces when the plan works.”

“Playing the nobles off of each other to force the Council’s hand?” Zuko grinned. “You really are a born politician.” 

“I try.” Katara tossed her hair off her shoulder – or, tried to – and burst out laughing when she ended up with a faceful of hair for her efforts. “So after we get their backing, we ask around Caldera City General, figure out who the patients in the worst condition are, and reshuffle treatment to get them into the East Wing. You use your…Fire Lord powers…to order them to be moved. If they’re just single patients at first, the Council probably won’t even know. The backers pay for them to be treated in the East Wing while the previous occupants of those beds switch places with them. They get the care they need, the rich patients are outraged, and when we bring our budget before the Council, the nobles they all have in their pockets will be so mad about the hospital system that they’ll have no choice but to approve the budget changes or lose their allies.” Katara’s eyes sparkled. “And _that_ is how you fix a broken system.”

“By making the rich complain about it?”

“Mm-hm.” Katara smiled, this one reaching her eyes. “It’s going to be crazy-disorganized at first, since no one really knows what they’re doing yet,” she said, “which is why I’m going to be overseeing the transition myself.”

“Wait, what?” Zuko’s eyes widened. “You didn’t tell me-“

“It’s a win-win situation,” she explained. “I get to take direct action, I can make sure my plan’s being implemented properly, and I’ll actually see firsthand if it’s working.”

“Katara, you can’t-“

“This isn’t up for discussion, Zuko,” she said firmly. “As the Minister of Social Services, I say that it’s necessary, and _you_ will have to deal with that.”

“Fine,” Zuko huffed.

“Good.” Katara rolled her scroll back up. “Now, about that party.”

Zuko let out a groan. “Yes?”

“Am I going to have to watch you try to flirt?” she crossed her arms. “Because if I am, I just need you to know how painful that would be for _everyone. Involved.”_

_It’s secondhand embarrassment because you can’t flirt, not jealousy,_ she wanted to insist. But she knew she’d be lying.

* * *

_“Hina!”_

Rounding the corner into the courtyard, Hina barely had time to react to the sound of her name before a yellow blur came racing towards her, wrapping her up in a hug so sudden it nearly knocked her into the painstakingly-pruned jasmine bushes behind her.

  
“Nice to see you too, Aang,” Hina greeted him, wrapping her arms around him in kind as he rested his chin atop her head as was, apparently, his custom.

She didn’t want to think about the fact that she’d gotten used to this: the sound of her name in his voice, and the way he was always so _excited_ to see her, and the strange familiarity of the feeling of being tucked her under his chin. She didn’t want to be reminded that she’d thought about the look he gave her as he left for Kyoshi Island far more than was normal, trying to figure out what he meant and only getting her own thoughts more muddled and confused in the process. Aang was her _partner._ Her _associate._ Her…okay, yes, _friend._ These things were normal among friends. Aang was just affectionate. Aang was _seventeen,_ and she hadn’t felt seventeen since she was twelve.

Until he mumbled, “I missed you,” into her hair, and her face went beet-red.

“Um.” Hina didn’t know how she was supposed to respond to that, or to the fact that he was still hugging her after five minutes. She decided on avoidance. “How was the wedding?”

“Oh, it was great!” Aang’s excitement was palpable. “The ceremony was beautiful, and Sokka and Suki seem so happy, and Katara and Zuko got completely wasted and confessed their undying love to each other but then they didn’t remember any of it when they woke up and I don’t think we should tell them but Toph does and-“

“Wait, _what?”_ if ever a statement could snap Hina out of this strange daze she was in, that was it. “They… _what?”_

“I honestly thought Zuko was gonna propose to her on the spot,” Aang told her. “But then they didn’t remember it, so-“

“Oh, this is so bad.” Hina couldn’t help but cackle. “Zuko’s council is giving him a year to find a wife, and he goes and does _that?”_

“It _is?”_ Aang’s eyes widened. “Why don’t they just marry each other, then?”

“That’s the million-dollar question.” Hina, feeling rather sociable, looped her arm through his as they made their way towards the forgotten and walled-in back garden where they’d agreed to meet for privacy. “There’s a party tonight that they’ve _said_ is just commemorating…some event no one cares about, I don’t know, but it’s really just an excuse for the Council to parade women in front of him in the hopes that he likes one. That’s gonna be awkward after all of this, isn’t it?”

“I almost want to tell them, even though we agreed not to,” Aang said, more to himself than to Hina. “Just to put them out of their misery.”

“Well, that would probably just make things weird,” Hina said, her eyes glinting, “but now that we know their feelings are mutual, why can’t we just…do a little bit of social engineering?”

“Social engineering?”

“At the party,” Hina explained. “I’ll be there, and I’m assuming you will be too, so what if we-“

“Got them to dance!” Aang cried.

“I was going to say ‘carefully engineered a situation in which they would be forced to spend copious amounts of time together and which might inadvertently cause them to display their feelings, warning off any other women the Council might throw at him,’ but yeah.” Hina grinned, biting back the clawing anxiety in her stomach at the thought of what she knew. “Dancing works.”

They lapsed into silence, and privately Hina wondered if she were losing her mind or if this sudden bout of whimsy was entirely the fault of the Avatar’s youthful influence. Walking arm-in-arm towards the garden, she was hyperaware of the way their skin brushed at the crook of their elbows; after a moment of silence he dropped her arm and, cautiously, set his free hand against the small of her back instead. The weight of his hand where he’d settled it against her was gentle but it made its presence known, and Hina found herself flushing – _again?!? Since when do I blush so much?_

(Then she looked up at Aang and found that he was even _more_ flushed; this was reassuring somehow.)

“So,” she finally said when she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Jokes aside, I have…updates. On the situation.”

He swung open the gate to the back garden, gesturing for her to head in first. “Yes?” he asked, entering after she did and closing the gate behind them.

She led him to a back corner where a fruit tree surrounded by overgrown bushes would shield them from view. This had been her favorite spot in the palace in the years she’d lived here as a child and she knew exactly where to go so as not to be seen. “I intercepted a Phoenix Society courier on the way to that janitor’s house,” she told him, taking a seat on a stone bench overgrown with vines in its neglect. “It was just lucky timing, but I overheard them talking about his ‘new orders,’ whatever that meant. So I followed her and, um.” She pulled out the scroll, not sure how to tell the world’s most well-known pacifist that she’d knocked someone unconscious and left her lying in an alley. “I got this.”

Aang took the scroll, mercifully uninterested in the details of how she’d acquired it. His eyes widened as they skimmed over the words.

  
“Skylark,” he read, “new orders from Leadership. Fire Lord being forced to marry – vital to take advantage of this opportunity. Report to Caldera City Headquarters for Phase 2 and ask for Cio. Signed, Kittiwake?” Aang met her eyes with the same combination of fear and confusion she’d felt when she first read the missive. “They’re _here?”_

“It looks like it,” Hina said gravely. “And I don’t exactly know how, but they’re planning to use the search for a Fire Lady to advance their goals.”  
  


“Have you told Zuko yet?” Aang asked. “I think he needs to know about this.”

“He does,” Hina agreed. “He’s been in meetings all day, so I haven’t been able to see him yet, but I’m going to debrief him as soon as I get the chance.” She inhaled sharply. “And honestly, Aang? This wedding confession thing isn’t the only reason I suggested setting him up with Katara.”

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s also because it’s just _safer,”_ Hina admitted. “We don’t know what the Phoenix Society is planning, but I’d bet good money that they’re planning to influence Zuko’s choice to get a sympathetic Fire Lady on the throne, or to weaken him, or…I don’t know, something like that. And if he’s with Katara…”

“He won’t be in danger of picking a wife who’s actually a Phoenix Society puppet,” Aang reasoned. “You’re right. We can trust Katara, so maybe it’s best if they…”

“Yeah.” Hina sighed. “I know it’s my job, but I hate being so manipulative. But…it’s not like they don’t want this, right?”

“Right,” Aang agreed. “So that’s the plan? Set him up with Katara so that whatever their plan is, it doesn’t work?”

“Well, it’s not _quite_ that simple,” Hina said. “We also have to keep finding people to get information from and figure out what they’re planning, because I’m learning fast that their goals aren’t as simplistic as we thought they were. This could just be one part of a much bigger plan that we aren’t aware of yet.”

“But that’s the main part, right?” Aang asked. For a moment, Hina was struck by how readily he was willing to accept this when he’d had trouble even mentioning Zuko and Katara’s names in the same sentence a few weeks ago, but she didn’t dwell on it. “Making sure they can’t get him to marry whoever they want?”

“I suppose,” Hina said, leaning forwards with her elbows resting on her knees. “But that doesn’t mean that our work is done. And you know how hard it’s going to be to get them together in the first place, right?”

“Better than anyone.” Aang cracked a tiny smile. “I mean, I was the one who saw them drunk-confess their feelings and then forget all about it in the morning.”

“Zuko’s an idiot like that,” Hina chuckled. “I love him, and it’s probably legally considered treason to say this, but he’s absolutely an idiot when it comes to her.”

“She’s the same way,” Aang agreed. “So yeah. I know. But honestly, Hina?”

“Yeah?”

“After all the stuff we’ve gone through to try to stop these people, getting Zuko and Katara to admit that they’re in love with each other seems like a snap.”

“I hope you’re right, little Avatar,” Hina sighed. “I really hope you’re right.”

“ _Little?_ I’m _taller than y-“_

“Shh, child, I don’t care.”

  
Somehow she felt like she was never going to live that down.


	17. Dancing Around the Subject

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hina warns Zuko that his courtship process might be even more dicey than expected; much dancing and awkward flirting takes place; a stray moon peach bun wreaks chaos. Hina finally gets some much-needed hugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was SO FUN to write because I got to back up a little, stop the plot wheels from turning (mostly), and write straight-up romance. Party shenanigans, man...these things are so much fun. I hope you love it too. <3
> 
> Content warning for INSANELY CHEESY PICKUP LINES, it's okay kids you're trying your best ;)

Hina didn’t even knock before she stormed into Zuko’s chambers in full formal attire. Perhaps it was a risk, but it was one she had to take in spite of the stares – some disgruntled, some merely confused – from the attendants, mostly extraneous, who were buzzing around Zuko’s chambers. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty,” she said with a proper bow, choosing to ignore the odd look that Zuko gave her sudden formality, “but I have information that cannot wait.”

Some of his attendants looked like they wanted to protest, but none did, and Zuko stood immediately. “By all means, tell me, Spymistress,” he said, and she knew that, unlike herself, he was merely keeping up appearances by using her proper title. “Lee, Tiang, you may go.”

The two attendants who’d been buzzing about him dispersed, taking the rest with them, and Zuko sat back down in the chair where they’d been preparing him for the party, gesturing for her to take a seat in the armchair across from his. “Now, what is it that couldn’t wait?”

He said it patiently, but Hina still felt chastised. “I’m sorry, Your Maj-“

“Hina, please. You don’t have to do that.”

“Right.” She bit her lip, the realization of how much she’d missed him in the past weeks hitting her full-force. “I’m sorry, Zuko. We have some information about the Phoenix Society that you need to know before the party.”

“Before the party?” Zuko raised his eyebrows. “Is there a threat?”

“Not a direct one,” Hina told him, grateful for a chance to be businesslike and bury the regret and guilt she felt. “In fact, we have yet to uncover any evidence that the Phoenix Society was involved in the attack at the marketplace at all. But we intercepted a letter from one of their couriers stating that they plan to capitalize on the presentation of suitors in some way.”

  
“Any idea how?” Zuko leaned back against his chair with a sigh. “As if this wasn’t already a mind-numbingly stupid idea…”

“We don’t, but we have a few ideas. The most probable of those seems to be, unfortunately, that they’re trying to influence your choice so as to get a sympathetic Fire Lady on the throne. And the most likely way they’d do that is by putting a horse in the race, so to speak.”

“Come again?”

“It’s possible that one of the potential suitors will be a Phoenix Society puppet,” Hina told him. “You need to be aware of that threat and do everything you can to avoid being influenced.”

“That won’t be a problem. I’m not choosing a wife tonight.”

Hina had known Zuko to be stubborn, but that caught her off-guard. “But the Council mandated-“

“The Council doesn’t get to tell me who to give my heart to,” Zuko snapped. “I’m not falling in love with any of these women, I already know that. So I’m not marrying one.” His determination cracked a little, and his shoulders drooped as it did. “I know it’s selfish, Hina, I really do. I should just take a wife the country will approve of and have a child to secure the line of succession. But…I can’t do it.”

“Because you’re in love with someone else,” Hina said flatly.

He nodded, and though she’d known it was true, she was almost surprised to see him admit it.

“Zuko, that’s not a bad thing,” she said, unable to stop her voice from going soft and gentle and everything she’d tried not to be around the man whose life she’d so nearly ended. “You love Katara. She’ll be at the party, we know we can trust her beyond a shadow of a doubt, and she’d make an amazing Fire Lady-“

“And she doesn’t feel the same way.” If it were possible, Zuko’s shoulders rounded even more. “Believe me, Hina, if she did, I’d run up to her chambers and ask her to marry me as soon as you left, but she _doesn’t._ She’s my friend, and that’s all she wants to be. And I have to marry a woman I don’t love because…”

“Because you won’t tell her how you feel, Zuko,” Hina said gently, her heart breaking for the pair even though they were both being impossibly thickheaded about all of this. “Don’t you at least want to _try?”_

“It’s been so long,” he said, his voice low and shaky. “I can’t imagine her still feeling that way after all this time.”

“Zuko, the evidence is right there,” Hina sighed, pity giving way to fond annoyance once again. “The way she rushed to you when you got stabbed and wouldn’t leave your side, the way she agreed to stay, all those late nights in your study, the way she _looks_ at you – Zuko, I’m a spy, I _know_ what that look means…” seeing that she wasn’t getting through to him, Hina went to run her hand through her hair before remembering that it had just been twisted into an elaborate updo for the party and letting her hand drop back to her red silk skirts. “Look, if you won’t do it because you love her, do it for the sake of the Fire Nation. I’m not saying you have to propose to her or anything like that, just…I don’t know, dance with her enough times to put off the girls who might be Phoenix Society.”

From the longing look that crossed his face, Hina could tell that Zuko would like almost nothing more than that. But when he responded, his tone was measured. “I can do that,” he sighed. “But it’s only going to make it harder to let go when I have to pretend I’ll be happy with someone else.”

“You don’t,” Hina said.

  
He didn’t look like he believed her.

* * *

“You have to be kidding.” Katara’s eyes widened in horror from across the table where they’d taken a seat. The dancing hadn’t begun yet – he’d have to pick a partner to open the ball, and it was all he could do to escape the women who were already mobbing him – but most of the guests had already arrived, and he had to steal a moment to loop Katara in before he lost the chance. “They’re _here?”_

“We don’t know for sure,” Zuko deflected as he rather desperately tried not to notice the way her loose curls fell around her shoulders, or how the blue silk bodice of her gown followed the contours of her torso – _national security, Zuko. Snap out of it._ He shook himself. “But Spymistress Oyama suspects that one of the women here tonight might be their puppet. And I’m supposed to avoid her at all costs.”

“But you have no idea who she is?” Katara crossed her arms. “How’s that work?”

“Well, um, what she suggested was that I do that by only dancing with women I know aren’t in the Society’s pockets,” he said, his face flushing. “And there are only three of those here tonight, and I’m not opening a ball with my mother, so I was wondering if, um. If you’d like to dance with me.”

“Of course,” Katara said with nonchalance that belied the crimson flush in her cheeks. “But…the first dance? That’s a bold statement, Zuko. You might make some people pretty mad by giving your first dance of the night to a no-account waterbender.”

His eyes flashed and he didn’t miss the way she recoiled a little at the sudden change in his temperament. “There is _no one_ more deserving than you, Katara. Or more trustworthy.”

“Careful,” she teased, still blushing. “Keep carrying on like that and I’ll start to think it’s _me_ you’re trying to woo and not the actual suitors.”

Zuko looked pained, and briefly, Katara wondered why, but she figured it was at the idea of wooing a woman he didn’t know and let it drop.

“Well, I know you’re not a spy, and I’m not opening with my mom or Hina – no offense to Hina, but that would look even stranger – so…you’re kind of my last option.”

Katara’s face fell a little. “Oh, all right. As long as I’m your last resort.”

“Katara, please. National security.”

“Zuko, I’m not going to refuse you.” She smiled reassuringly in his direction and took his arm, pulling him from his chair and towards a gaggle of gossiping women. “Now help me get some backers for my hospital experiment.”

Zuko couldn’t help but smile at that. “But of course, Minister Katara,” he teased, enjoying the feeling of her delicate hand resting against his forearm a little bit too much.

“Lady Liang?” Katara said brightly as soon as the group finished its compulsory round of respect-paying to its sovereign. “I was hoping I could speak to you about a philanthropic matter.”

The oldest woman in the group – Rixian, Zuko remembered – lit up at the request. “But of course!” she crowed, taking Katara’s offered hand a little too enthusiastically. “But first, you’ll have to remind me. Who exactly are you, again?”

Zuko bristled at that. “This,” he said, regarding her fondly before turning his gaze out to the crowd (whose interest was _definitely_ piqued, seeing the tenderness with which he’d looked at her), “is Lady Katara, waterbending master and my Minister of Social Services.”

“A waterbender!” one of the women exclaimed, half-disbelieving and half-entranced. “I’ve never met one before!”

“Well, now you have,” Katara said amiably, bowing to the woman. “And you are?”

“Xialing Liang,” she told Katara. “It is a pleasure, Lady Katara. Now, tell us more about this philanthropic project of yours!”

* * *

Hina’s heart was hammering away at her ribcage by the time she made her way into the stuffy ballroom, though whether with fear or anticipation, she wasn’t sure. This was almost exciting: the thrill of the chase, an entire room full of people to read and interactions to dissect, looking for clues as to who might be in the pocket of the Phoenix Society, and all in a setting too posh and public for there to be any real danger of attack. It was a perfect chance to do what she’d become so adept at since leaving the Liberation League and its shoot-first tactics behind.

But she was a little nervous, too, as she walked in, skimming her hands over the folds of her red satin skirt. She felt vulnerable in so much fabric: the billowing, nearly floor-length sleeves of her _hanfu_ made rapid movement near-impossible, and everything about the dress, from the sash that cinched a little too tightly around her waist to the double-layered satin skirt, weighed her down. It was truly impractical, something she’d never have chosen for herself, but she had to admit that its gold embroidery was stunning against red satin. And the thought of it, wearing something beautiful enough to stand out when her entire life thus far told her that a good agent never drew the eyes of others unless she had a reason to, made her skin crawl.

So, her heart still keeping up a steady thrum in her chest, Hina made her way around the ballroom, aimlessly searching for a familiar face in the crowd. Though many were known to her, few were liked, and she found herself wandering, unsure where to go. She could talk to Zuko, if she could find him, but she didn’t really want to; Ursa or Katara would probably love to catch up, but she wasn’t sure if she would. She could always-

“Hina?”

Hina looked up so fast she saw stars for a fleeting moment at the unmistakable sound of Aang’s voice. But this time, he hadn’t called her name with the enthusiasm he always showed; his greeting was questioning, halting, almost disbelieving, and there was a little catch in his voice that she’d never heard before. He wore full-length saffron robes – simple, and barely different from the clothes he normally wore – and, no two ways about it, was staring.

_Staring._ At _Hina._ She wasn’t even sure where to begin to process that because no one, _no one,_ stared at Hina Oyama. She was intelligent and skilled and perceptive and invaluable to the safety of the Fire Nation – these things she and everyone else knew. But when it came to beauty, no one had ever rushed to sing her praises. Her face flushed. “Yes?” she finally managed to answer after a fraught pause.

“Um. Hi.” Aang awkwardly raised one of his hands in greeting, a gesture so that was utterly _him_ that Hina would’ve laughed if she hadn’t felt like the floor was spinning. “You…you look beautiful.”

“Oh. Thanks.” She flushed, wishing she could stop the flow of blood to her face even while knowing she couldn’t. “You too.”

“I look beautiful?” Aang’s eyes lit up with mirth. “Why, thank you, Spymistress.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like _that,”_ she said, wishing she could sink through the floor.

“Yeah, but still, I’ll take it.” Aang offered her his arm. “Do you wanna dance?”

“We’re here to neutralize a threat, Aang,” she hissed through her teeth, glancing around to make sure they weren’t being watched. “We can’t afford to lose focus.”

“Yeah, but we also have to blend in.” He smiled cheekily, fully aware that he was playing her usual role and that she hated that it was working. “And we’re going to look a little suspicious if we’re off to the side all night. Just saying.”

“One dance,” Hina sighed, as if this were some great sacrifice. Truthfully, she was grateful for the distraction, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Right.” He grinned, leading her to the floor as band finished tuning and the music for the first dance began. Out of the corner of her eyes, Hina caught sight of Zuko and Katara at the edge of the dance floor, their comfort with the closeness of the dance at odds with the flustered expressions on both of their faces; she nudged Aang, discreetly pointing her shoulder in their direction.

“Looks like my chat with Zuko did its job,” she observed, feeling a little too proud of herself.

  
“It did,” Aang agreed. “Think she’ll agree to keep dancing with him, though?”

“Aang, please. She’s as besotted with him as he is with her.” Hina had to hold in an extremely improper snort. “Of course she will.”

  
“’Besotted?’” Aang teased as the music began and the floor came alive with couples moving through the rise and fall of the dance’s steps. Fire Nation balls usually opened with a dance like this – intricate enough to allow dancers to show off, but simple enough to give them time to get their feet under them. “I mean, yeah, but…’besotted’?”

“It’s not my fault that I have an extensive vocabulary and I’m not afraid to use it,” Hina shot back as she pressed her wrist against his, hand outstretched, and they circled around each other. “Anyway. Looks like as long as they keep dancing, they’re out of the woods for now.”

“Aren’t people going to think it’s weird if he only dances with her all night?” Aang asked, throwing a glance around the room. “I mean…that isn’t normal, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” Hina replied, rather impressed that he’d picked up on that with, as far as she knew, no knowledge of formal Fire Nation parties. “He’ll figure something out, though. He looked more scared than I was when he found out that one of his suitors might be a mole, so I doubt he’ll go anywhere near them.”

“This would be easier if we just told them what happened at the wedding!” Aang said, raising his voice over the constantly-rising volume of the music.

“ _You’re_ the one who didn’t want to do that!” Hina shot back, unable to contain her smile. She was amazed how easily they’d slipped into this snappy back-and-forth; teasing wasn’t an area in which she had much experience, but it came naturally with Aang. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

  
“Nope.” Aang shot her that infuriating _look-how-easily-I-can-get-your-goat_ smile as the music ended. “Wanna keep dancing?”

  
To her total shock, Hina found her head moving of its own accord. “I do.”

* * *

“Would my Lady perhaps consider granting me the pleasure of the next dance?"

“Oh, come off of it.” Katara rolled her eyes, standing at the sound of the comically rarified accent Zuko liked to slip into when he made requests of Katara. “You want to dance? Again?”

Zuko nodded, holding out his hand when she turned to face him. “Would you?”

Something about the earnestness of the way he said that, and the way it softened the severity and hard angles of his face, made Katara’s heart melt, and she gladly took his offered hand. “Get tired of nosy old women?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Zuko told her. “Only being able to dance with women who are already married limits my potential partners to…well. You know.”

“All in service of the Fire Nation,” Katara said lightly, leaning against him without even thinking about it. The song that had begun to play was a slower one, decidedly more romantic than some of the others, and she bit her lip, almost wishing he’d chosen this dance to ask of her on purpose. “Right?”

  
“Something like that,” he muttered, placing one hand at her waist and the other on her shoulder. Their eyes locked and for a moment Katara couldn’t move, pinned in place by the intensity of his golden eyes on hers. Vaguely, she remembered a comment he’d made about her eyes once – ‘they’re like the ocean,’ he’d said, ‘blue and deeper than they look’ – and her breath caught in her throat. That look – those _eyes –_ made her want to do _unspeakably_ stupid things.

She decided, without warning, to do one.

“Careful, sailor,” she said, her voice dropping into a smooth contralto. “Wouldn’t want too get lost in my eyes.”

His eyes went wide at that. “Um.” He stammered for a moment, trying to find something to say. “...oh, right. Ocean eyes.” 

“Yeah, ocean eyes.” Only then did Katara fully realize what she’d actually said, and her face flushed furiously. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what cam-“

“It’s a little late for that,” he finally responded, trying to match her husky tone and only managing a nervous croak. “I’m already way off-course.”

Katara’s heart didn’t know whether to flip in elation at the fact that he was _flirting back_ or clench in affection because he was so _bad_ at it that it couldn’t help but be endearing. “Is this what we’re doing now?” she said, unlacing her hands, which had been notched behind his neck, to lay flat against his shoulders. “Playing the part?”

  
“Hm?”

“You know, pretending to be a couple to scare off potential fake suitors?” she teased, testing the waters as much as she was demurring.

“Oh. Right.” Something in his expression shifted, though it was barely perceptible. “Um. Yeah, that’s exactly what we’re doing.” He tightened his arms around her waist, drawing her in until she was flush against him. As if by instinct, Katara turned her cheek to rest it against his chest, letting him hold her closer than close and wishing she could stretch this moment out for an eternity.

“You’re a good actor,” she mumbled after a moment of swaying like that and, inevitably, drawing the stares of everyone around them.

“Only because my leading lady makes it so easy,” he said, kissing the crown of her head so tenderly that she barely felt it. “Thank you, Katara.”

“For what?” she asked, her heart fluttering a mile a minute.

“For tonight,” he said. “For agreeing to dance with me, I guess.”

“But why ask me?” she asked, skimming her hands down his sides to rest at his waist. “You could’ve danced with anyone else who was…you know, married or trustworthy.”

Zuko paused for a moment, not answering, before he finally spoke up.

“Because,” he said, and she knew he meant it, “if I’m going to be miserable tomorrow, I figured I’d better enjoy tonight.” 

So much lingered in the spaces between those words, feelings they’d always know but rarely expressed. Usually, those unspoken words hung like a heavy fog in the air between them, but tonight, they floated. Tonight, what had been left unsaid felt like possibility, not missed opportunity.

Tonight, Katara almost dared to hope that she could still be his.

* * *

“Want anything to eat?” Aang asked, painstakingly setting down plate after plate of food he’d scrounged from the buffet – so many that a few that couldn’t fit in his arms were on air scooters – on the table they were sharing. “I got plenty.”

  
“That seems like an exaggeration,” Hina chuckled, grabbing a spear of pineapple and beginning to eat. “Thanks for making a food run. I really didn’t want to get up.”

“I could tell.” He flopped down in the seat beside hers. “They really went all out on the food for this thing. There’s an entire table of dessert.”

“Did you get any?” Hina’s eyes lit up. Sugar was _exactly_ what she needed right now.

“Oh, yeah, one of everything. There was this one thing I was especially excited to try.” He grabbed light-pink roll from the plate of sweets he’d brought. “The server said they were super popular. I think he called them-“

Hina’s face blanched when she recognized the pastry. “Moon peach buns,” she said under her breath, her heart starting to race all over again. _Moon peach buns. The market. Zuko…_

”I need some air,” she panted, her breath suddenly coming in gasps, and before Aang could even call after her, she was up and running, headed for a balcony she knew no one would be on. The cool, humid night air kissed her face as she stepped through the doorway but brought little comfort. One look at that bun and suddenly she’d been back in the market on her birthday, scrambling for her dagger, then unhitching an ostrich horse and willing Zuko to hang in there until they reached the palace, and knowing all the while that it was her fault, her fault, _all her fault-_

_“All my fault,”_ she gasped, slumping against the railing. Her breathing slowed but tears sprang to her eyes, and she let them fall. Her palms felt sweaty, so she clenched them; her heart raced, so she breathed. But neither worked. She felt her breath shortening again. _Just ride it out, Hina,_ she told herself, but-

“Hina?”

Within a few seconds of finding her, Aang was at her side on the railing. He didn’t try to touch her, kept a tentative distance, but his voice wrapped around her like a blanket and, though she didn’t quite know why, she found herself wrapping her arms around him. Where his hugs had always been statements, hers was a question, one he gladly answered, tucking her under his chin. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured into her hair. “I should’ve known. I just…forgot. And I’m really sorry.”

And that – that he’d _known_ exactly why she’d been so upset without a word from her – undid her, and she sobbed into his robes, clutching at the saffron fabric for dear life.

  
“It’s all my fault,” she sobbed. “I tried to forget it. I tried to distract myself. And I just-I just…” she trailed off as another sob wracked her shoulders.

“It’s not, Hina,” Aang said, rubbing circles against the back of her _hanfu_. “But…you can’t hide from your feelings, either.”

“I know,” she admitted, because deep down, she _did._ She just…wasn’t sure how. “I don’t know how, though.”

“Do you want me to try to help you?” he asked, releasing her to make eye contact. “Because I think I know a way to do that if you want.”

“Um…sure,” Hina sniffed brushing a tear from her cheek with her oversized brocade sleeve. He walked off, promising to be right back, and Hina nearly cried all over again as she watched him leave. She didn’t know why and right now, she didn’t care, but the tears welling up in her eyes wouldn’t let her deny it.

And they were falling by the time the sound of footsteps returned. Except this time, the accompanying voice wasn’t Aang’s. “Hey.”

“Zuko?” Hina whirled around, furiously wiping the tears from her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he’d-“

“No, it’s fine. Hina, what happened?” he crossed the distance between them to stand in front of her. “Are you all right?”

The moment seemed to freeze, because she _knew_ this would matter: whether she told him everything or clammed up like she wanted to, ignoring the problem, letting a friendship wither away with the distance she carefully placed between them.

And in an instant, she chose the former.

“I saw a moon peach bun.” She couldn’t look at him. “It’s stupid, right? But I saw that bun, and all of the sudden, I was back in the market, watching you…watching you…” she trailed off, a sob escaping her throat. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be crying in front of you. I know, it’s just-“

“Hina, it’s not stupid, and _no one_ is around to know about it.” He extended his arms, asking permission, and she nodded, burying herself in his embrace. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“No, that’s just it!” she fought back a fresh round of tears uselessly. “It was _my_ fault that we were there in the first place.”

“I was the one who suggested it,” Zuko said, seeming genuinely puzzled. “How was that your fault?”

“It was _my_ birthday, and I didn’t talk you out of it when I should’ve,” she admitted, burrowing her face in his elaborate robes. She’d tried not to let herself admit how fiercely she’d missed this closeness, but now, she couldn’t deny it. “And you almost died because of it, and I’ll _always_ have to live with that. And I _tried_ to forget about it – I tried to distract myself and pull away so I wouldn’t have to look at you and know that I almost let you die, but…”

“Oh, Hina…” he squeezed her tight, and another sob broke from her throat. “ _That’s_ why you’ve been distant lately?”

She nodded against his chest.

“I know you’re not going to listen to me when I say that this isn’t your fault, and I know you’re not just going to forget it,” he said. “But I missed you, Hina.”

“I did, too,” she admitted, and it felt like a pile of bricks had been lifted from her chest.

  
It wasn’t a solution, it wasn’t a fix – but maybe it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frick, man, I'm letting this Haang subplot get way out of hand. oh whale *shrugs*


	18. A Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara wants Zuko to witness the results of her hospital experiment firsthand, and a young patient throws them both for a loop; Hina gets an unexpected new lead on the Phoenix Society case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is SHAMELESS. Utterly shameless. Please enjoy. 
> 
> (Sorry for the lack of Haang...I feel like a lot of you are reading for that now, whoops. More to come.)

“The move is going as well as could be expected, so far.” Katara’s eyes shone with pride as the palanquin approached Caldera City General Hospital, her face lit up with excitement at the prospect of showing Zuko the progress she was making. “The doctors and nurses had no problem identifying the patients from the other three wings who needed the move most, and it wasn’t too hard to get the moved in. Of course, the patients we moved to make room for them pitched fits, but that was kind of the point.”

“And you’ve been coming here to make sure the transition goes smoothly?” Zuko asked, a faint tinge to his cheeks as he took in the excitement on Katara’s face. _You have no idea how beautiful you are,_ he wanted to say.

“That, and just…to feel like I’m actually helping, I guess,” Katara told him. “It’s such a small thing, but if I can help those few patients while I wait for the chance to help _all_ of them, I feel like I’m doing something.”

“You heal them?” Zuko was surprised and unsurprised at the same time. It was pure Katara: feeling guilty for not doing enough when she was working herself to the bone to help someone, doing everything possible.

“Sometimes,” she replied, glancing down at her lap. “I almost always just want to heal them and send them on their way. That way we can move more people through and keep more beds empty for new patients. But I’ve always been better at healing injuries than illnesses, and sometimes there’s only so much I can do, and…” she sighed, wringing her hands. “I’m stretched thin already. I hate that I can’t do more, but I’m one person.”

“You can’t help everyone,” he told her. “I know the feeling. And you’re doing good work, Katara.”

“Usually I just visit them,” she told him. “They like that. No one ever wants to come to the other wings, so they didn’t get visitors before they were moved. The looks on their faces when they see that they have a visitor…” tears welled in Katara’s eyes. “It’s the most heartbreaking thing you can imagine.”

“I’m sure,” Zuko said. “Is that what you’re doing today?”

“Yeah.” Katara dipped her head in a weak nod. “There are ten of them right now, but the one I visit the most is a girl a few years younger than us with a disease that they think is weakening her muscles. She can barely move.”

“That sounds like a nightmare. And you’re visiting her today?”

Katara nodded. “I think she could use a visit from the Fire Lord most.” She smiled sadly as she added, “she’s very interested in history and politics, so I think she’s going to be excited.”

“What’s her name?” Zuko asked.

“Shizuka,” Katara said softly, fingering the hem of her tunic. “She’s fourteen.”

_Fourteen._ Zuko’s heart clenched at the idea of someone so young wasting away in squalor, and he’d never been more grateful for Katara. “She’s the reason you’re doing things like this, isn’t she,” he realized.

“There’s so much _need,_ Zuko.” The palanquin stopped and they stepped out, flanked by two guards (Zuko didn’t need a repeat of their one-guard mistake at the market). “Her case breaks my heart because she’s so young, but _all_ of them are just as bad. It’s not right, and it isn’t fair, and if I can do something about it, I’m going to.”

As the entered the East Wing’s reception room, doctors and staff rushed to greet Katara, most bringing news of the patients, before realizing who she’d brought with her and tripping over themselves to pay their respects. It was a little uncomfortable, truthfully, to watch so many people rush to show him reverence he didn’t feel like he was due. “Please, I’m here as a guest,” he told them, gesturing for them to stop bowing. “There’s no need for…all that.”

“The Fire Lord has a bit of a self-deprecatory streak,” Katara explained, smiling fondly up at him as she held tight to his arm, leaning a little into his side. A few badly-concealed gasps rang out at the Minister’s familiar treatment of the Fire Lord, which made Katara laugh into her free hand. Zuko was too flustered to notice, though; the gesture was so affectionate, so familiar and softly domestic, that for a moment it was easy to imagine that he was here on a charitable visit with his Fire Lady-

He shook himself. _Don’t think,_ he chastised himself, because the impossible fantasy was too easy to get lost in.

“I do _not,”_ he finally replied, half-teasing and half-choked up, just to show the staff that this was okay, she was well within her rights to tease him this way. A few of the nurses buzzing around the room stopped, trading questioning glances with soft, knowing smiles on their faces. He’d rarely felt more watched in his life.

“Yes, you do.” She patted his arm and directed her gaze to the woman at the receptionist’s desk. “Now, we’re here to see Shizuka.”

“Go right on back,” the woman replied, her eyes sparkling. “She’ll be thrilled.”

Zuko followed Katara through the doors and back into the corridor, glancing around at the pristine white walls and orderly flow of doctors moving through the hallway. It would’ve been easy to assume that the hospitals were in excellent repair if this had been all he’d seen. The rooms with their doors open looked equally well-kept: some had vases of fire lilies on their nightstands, while others held stacks of books or other personal items belonging to the people they belonged to. Katara didn’t seem interested in letting him take it all in, though, as she rushed him down the hallway towards the room with a label reading “Shizuka” on its door. She pushed the door open, gesturing for him to hang back behind her.

“Good morning, Shizuka,” he could hear her say from outside the door. The girl responded in kind, clearly ecstatic at having been visited. “How are things today?”

“Not so good,” Shizuka admitted, her voice small. “I needed water earlier, but I couldn’t walk, and I kept trying to call the nurse, and she wouldn’t wake up. I got some, but it was scary.” Zuko watched through the crack in the door and to see a frail, sunken-faced teenager with wide, bright eyes lying in a bed that dwarfed her tiny frame. “I hate needing things and not being able to get them.”

“Well, that shouldn’t happen!” Katara admonished no one in particular. “Have you asked the nurse to start keeping a glass of water on your nightstand?”

  
“I have one, but it was empty,” Shizuka said. “And the pitcher is too heavy to hold, so I can’t refill it. But I’m feeling a lot better now, so don’t worry about it.”

“It’s literally my job to worry about you, Shizuka,” Katara said softly, taking the girl’s hand. A lump formed in Zuko’s throat at the simple tenderness of the gesture. _You’d be such a good mother,_ he wanted to tell her, even though she already knew that a little too well and she’d probably shoot him a death glare for reminding her. “And that’s why I brought you a visitor.”

“Another one?” Shizuka’s wan face lit up, taking on new color in its excitement.

“Mm-hm,” Katara said with a tight-lipped smile. “You can come on in now!”

Zuko pushed open the door to the room cautiously, oddly nervous. “Um…hi, Shizuka,” he said, his face flushing when the girl’s eyes went wide.

“Fire Lord Zuko?” Shizuka’s face lit up, and though she barely had the strength to lift her shoulders, she sat bolt upright, rushing to bow before Katara pushed her shoulders back down to the pillows. The she turned to Katara, practically shaking with excitement. “ _That’s_ my visitor?”

“What, I didn’t tell you that the Fire Lord is a friend of mine?” she smiled mischievously. “And you don’t have to bow.”

“No, please don’t,” Zuko interjected, taking a few halting steps towards the bed. “Um. Lady Katara has, uh…told me about you.” He scratched the back of his neck. “All good things. Very good things. She says you’re her favorite.”

Shizuka looked up at him with some combination of awe and amusement that he couldn’t quite decipher before she began to laugh, only to clap a hand over her mouth as quickly as she caught herself. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty, I shouldn’t-“

“Oh, trust me, it’s fine,” Katara told her, standing to join Zuko, taking his arm. “He doesn’t mind. Right, Zuko?”

“Um. Oh, right, of course not,” he said. “Laugh away. I’m…funny like that.”

“I didn’t expect the _Fire Lord_ to be so _awkward,”_ Shizuka giggled. “Also, I just wanna say that I really like what you’ve done with this country. And by that, I mean that ending the war and putting Minister Katara in charge of the hospitals was a great idea. Are the negotiations for the Earth Kingdom reparations done yet? I know King Kuei keeps saying he just wants money, but I don’t think King Kuei knows what he’s talking about. That’s just my opinion, of course, but I think it’s a pretty good one. Anyway, I have a cousin who lives in Omashu, and there’s been food shortages ‘cause of all of the farmland that got burnt up during the war, so I think some of the reparations should be food, too. And also, I heard that they’re making you get married, and I think there’s a really simple answer to that. You should just-“

Katara shot her a _look,_ and she stopped short. “Sorry,” she said, flushing. “I got carried away again.”

“It’s fine, Shizuka,” Zuko told her, laughing in spite of himself. “It’s been a long time since someone told me they liked what I was doing. It’s a welcome change.”

“Really? That sucks. You’re a great Fire Lord, if I do say so myself.” Shizuka crossed her arms authoritatively. “And I should know. The family that my family works for has this huge library, and the lady of the house let me sneak off to read all of their books when I was supposed to be asleep. And my favorite one was about all the past Fire Lords.”

“Most of them left a lot to be desired,” Zuko muttered to himself, but Shizuka, apparently, heard him.

“Definitely,” she agreed. “No matter what people say, at least you can always know you’re doing a better job than that Fire Lord who tried to marry his horse, right?”

“Wait, that _happened?”_ Katara’s eyes widened. “You never told me that!”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Zuko sighed, trying not to laugh and failing after only a few seconds, and soon all three of them dissolved into laughter. The room took on a new cheeriness at that, the three of them laughing together, and he finally managed to wheeze, “there have been some pretty strange branches of my family tree.”

“Hm. Interesting.” Shizuka was done laughing now, appraising him seriously, then turning to Katara. There was an odd glint in her eyes that, in the face of such an obviously intelligent and opinionated girl, Zuko was a little bit wary of. “Do you think Fire Lord Zuko would mind if I asked him to help with my project?”

“Your project?” Katara flushed, obviously playing dumb. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to remind me.”

“The journal. Remember? I asked you, too,” she said, glancing at Zuko, then Katara, then Zuko again. A knowing smile crossed her face. “Perhaps I should read back what you told me to remind you?” she grabbed a small journal and a reed pen from her nightstand and flipped to the right page. “’What’s it like to fall in love? Well, I think love is’-“

“That’s enough, Shizuka!” Katara said, her voice a little too high-pitched. “I’m sure that-“

“I’m doing a project,” she told Zuko, ignoring Katara completely. “I know I don’t have a lot of time left, and there’s a lot of stuff I’m never gonna get to do, or feel, or see. So I’m asking people who _have_ done that stuff to tell me about it, and I’m writing it all down.” A little sadness finally made its way into Shizuka’s eyes, but it wasn’t much. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few things.”

“Shizuka, I really don’t think-“

“Of course,” Zuko said, taking a seat at the end of Shizuka’s bed. “What do you want to know?”

“Okay, I have a few.” Shizuka’s eyes danced with excitement. “First, what’s it like to be on a boat? Katara told me you have lots of experience with boats, and I’ve never been on one, so I wanna know. Second, what’s the Spirit Oasis like? Katara said you’d both been there, and if I had to pick a place in the world to go, I’d pick the Spirit Oasis. And lastly” – she smirked – “what’s it like to fall in love?” Katara’s mortified expression didn’t do a thing to dampen her mischievous smile. “Answer the last one first.”

_Oh, she has no idea._ “Um. Falling in love…it’s hard to explain,” he said a little sheepishly. “The ones that last aren’t love at first sight, really. It’s more like…you meet someone, and you don’t know why, but you get the idea that they’re going to matter to you for a really long time. And then you get to know each other, and you figure out why, and soon, pretty much nothing matters more than that ‘why’.” He mustered the courage to meet Katara’s eyes for a second. “Whether it’s…something deep, like how the person never loses hope even when nothing could worse, or something as simple as how pretty their eyes are. Usually it’s a lot of things. And then that person kind of rents space in your mind without even knowing it, and soon they’re on your mind all the time, and all you want is more of them. You feel like you could stay up all night talking to them, you wouldn’t even mind getting no sleep.” He stopped, cheeks coloring.

  
“Keep going,” Shizuka told him, frantically scribbling. “You’re doing good.”

“Um. I guess falling in love is also…knowing that you’d do a lot of things that didn’t make sense for that person.” He smiled to himself. “You’d find a way to move mountains if that person told you they were in the way. You’d do anything to give them the happiness they deserve.” He paused and then decided to continue. “If you had to choose between your life and theirs, you’d pick theirs every time.”

“I had no idea you could be so poetic, Zuko,” Katara said when he’d finished, blushing and staring at the floor.

“Yeah, seriously. That was beautiful.” Shizuka beamed. “Does it come from personal experience?”

“Um.” _Is she_ trying _to get me to…_

“Maybe,” Katara said, mercifully ending the conversation. “Now, you wanted to know about the Spirit Oasis?”

“Right, Spirit Oasis.” _Thank you,_ he mouthed to Katara. “What do you want to know?”

* * *

“What is it?” Hina tied the sash of the robe she’d thrown on over her wrappings, rubbing at her eyes blearily as she got up to answer the knock at her chamber door. “Couldn’t it wait until morning?”

“I was told that this was an urgent missive for you, Spymistress,” the servant who’d brought the scroll to her door said apologetically. “I’m sorry about the timing, but I was told it couldn’t wait.”

“Okay, thank you,” she yawned, closing the door behind the servant as she unrolled the scroll. Her eyes narrowed and she lit a candle, unsure if she could possibly be reading it right.

_Spymistress Oyama,_

_My name is Shuran Yang, and I was present at the party last night as an agent of the Phoenix Society. Since I failed to even speak to Fire Lord Zuko at the party, they have changed tactics, and I will no doubt be punished. Thus, I wish to propose a trade: I will provide information about the Society’s plans in exchange for protection._

_In case I do not make myself clear, Spymistress, I wish to come in from the cold. Meet me at the amphitheater tomorrow at ten if you wish to negotiate._

_-Shuran Yang_

Hina sat down hard on the edge of her bed, unsure whether to be shocked or relieved. She quickly drafted a reply with every intention of chasing down the servant who’d delivered this one and getting it to Shuran with the same urgency with which the first message had been delivered to her.

_Shuran,_

_Let’s talk._

_-Spymistress Oyama_

* * *

"Hey, Zuko?" 

"Mm-hm?" he glanced up from the nothing he'd been examining at the sound of Katara's voice. The palanquin jolted as its carriers hit a rut in the road. 

"Did you mean all that stuff you said to Shizuka?" 

"Of course I did," he said, deflecting. "The Spirit Oasis-"

"I didn't mean about the Spirit Oasis, Zuko." Katara crossed her arms. "About falling in love. Did you mean that?" she inhaled sharply. "Have you _felt_ that?" 

"Of course I have, Katara," he said, meeting her eyes. 

"When?" she asked. "I certainly didn't think you felt that way about Mai, but...when else?" she flushed. "For _who_ else?" 

  
And he didn't know exactly what it was, but the wall that had been holding back a flood of unspoken words cracked, coming apart after months of straining to keep it upright. He'd had enough of holding it in place when all he wanted to do was let it fall, and he did. 

"For _you_ , Katara," he told her, meeting her eyes and refusing to let them go. "I said all of that because that's what I feel every time I look at _you."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THAT CONFESSION WAS *NOT* SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN. AT. ALL. AND THEN IT JUST DID. I literally tacked on that bonus scene in five minutes after realizing that the chapter felt incomplete and ended up dropping the biggest bomb of the entire freakin' story so far. OOPS.


	19. Do Your Worst to Me, Test My Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara has a rather unfortunate reaction to Zuko's confession which both have to work out; Hina meets with her Phoenix Society contact; Aang and Katara have a heart-to-heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first things first, if you want to sob, listen to this while you read Zuko's letter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rL5_44L0yV4
> 
> IT'S SO THEM. I FREAKING LOVE IT. It's also where the chapter title is from.
> 
> Anyway. This has to be my favorite chapter so far, for so many reasons: the letters, the yearning, the absolute best Hina scene in this entire story...gosh, I just love it. That's probably really arrogant to say but when you're cranking out 6k words a day and most of them are trash, you get VERY excited when something turns out good. So I hope you guys like it too.

_Dear Katara,_

_If I ever give you this, it’ll have been ages since I wrote you. It’s not like I needed to with you being here. But I’ve still been writing. Maybe someday you’ll get these, but after this afternoon, I doubt it._

_You’d probably think me even crazier than you already do if you knew that, as soon as we arrived at the palace, I holed up in my study to write you a letter you’ll never get. But what else was I supposed to do, Katara? I poured out my heart, and you said “oh.” I really don’t blame you. If anything, this was why I was never going to tell you how I felt. You obviously don’t feel the same way. I mean, what was I thinking, that you’d launch yourself across the palanquin to kiss me senseless? ~~Even if I hoped for that, it was stupid of me to get my hopes up.~~_

_But I’m not upset that I did it, because at the end of the day, Katara, I love you so much that I’m halfway to crazy with it. Even sitting in this study is torture now, because all I can see when I glance around this room is the way you filled it. I see you sleeping on the settee, hear you insisting that “it’s just a couch, Fire Lord Furniture Expert.” I look across my desk at the paperwork that somehow manages to get everywhere no matter how many times I clean in here, and I see you sorting through documents, biting your lip. ~~How watching you always made me wish~~_ ~~I~~ _~~were the one biting that lip. Does that sound weird? That sounds weird. Agni, is there no end to my awkwardness?~~ _ _I hear your laugh and your voice shouting at me for my lack of compassion and your teasing comments that drove me crazy without you even realizing it. I feel you tucking a blanket around me when I stumbled in here half-asleep._

_I see you everywhere, Katara, because ever since you arrived, you’ve invaded every corner of my space and my mind and my heart, and you leave behind images that no time or effort can scrub away._

_Honestly, looking back on the way I told you how I felt, I almost wish I’d done it in writing instead of blurting it out like that. Sure, it’s cowardly to hide behind paper that way, but I’m a thousand times better at words when I have time to think than I ever would be at saying them out loud. How could I not be, when the sight of you makes my heart stop for a moment before it remembers that it needs to keep me alive? You don’t seem to think I’m very poetic, so I’m sure you’d never stop teasing me if you read one of these love letters._

_I have a whole box of them, did you know that? I wrote the first one after Ba Sing Se, thinking that one day, when we got the chance to be together, I’d let you read them. I would imagine handing you that box and you stopping what you were doing to tear it open as you always do. We’d be sitting on my bed, and you’d read every single letter right then and there, and by the end your hands would be shaking, and there would be tears in your eyes, and you would turn and throw your arms around my neck. I’d hold you for as long as you let me, and you’d tell me you loved me and hold on tight._

_But given how you reacted when I told you that I’m so in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself, I don’t think you’re ever going to be reading these. So I might as well go all-out. After all, I’m just writing this for catharsis, right? I’m going to marry a beautiful, refined, passionless aristocrat and spend the rest of my days hiding this box of love letters in my desk and pretending I could love her half as much in a lifetime as I loved you in any single moment. I’ll never give them to you. I’ll never know what your lips would feel like on mine. I’ll never know how long it took, after that night in Ba Sing Se, for your feelings to fizzle out, when mine never did. I’ll never see the way your eyes might sparkle when you noticed me holding back tears during our wedding. I’ll never wake up with you in my arms._

_I’ll never be with the woman I love._

_I don’t blame you, Katara, not one bit. I wouldn’t fall in love with me either, if I were you. But you broke my heart, even though a part of me knows that you could never stop me from loving you._

_Rip my heart out, Katara. Make me wait, put me through the wringer, tear me to shreds. Smash me into a million pieces, and every single one will still love you more when I wake tomorrow than it did when I fell asleep tonight._

_With all the love you’ll never return,_

_Zuko_

* * *

“Shuran Yang – that you?”

  
At the sound of Hina’s voice, a woman wearing a nondescript tunic and trousers under a hooded cloak stood from the place where she sat at the bottom row of the amphitheater. It was an old building, crumbling into disrepair with its rare use, but that afforded them privacy. “Spymistress Oyama?” the woman responded.

“That’s me.” She took a seat beside Shuran. “Look, Agent Yang, I know you know I know how dangerous this is. We’re alone and I’m meeting with a known agent of an adversary to my employer. So convince me you didn’t lure me into a trap and I’ll think about agreeing to your deal.”

“You’re completely justified in your distrust, Spymistress,” Shuran said coolly, lifting the hood of her cloak to reveal fine, aristocratic features, impeccably-braided hair, and a thoughtful expression. “But I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t on your side.”

“You said you were sent to infiltrate the party,” Hina reminded her, keeping her tone measured. “I’d hardly call that an act of allegiance.”

“No, it wasn’t. And frankly, I’d have had no problem with carrying out my mission as ordered if that had been all I was being asked to do.” She shot Hina a pointed look. “I wouldn’t have killed Zuko. That’s never been the Phoenix Society’s goal.”

“Forgive me for not believing you, but if that’s not what you’re trying to do, what _is?”_ Hina asked, her once-neutral words now barbed. “All this talk of his failures, of deposing the Fire Lord, the _attempt on his life-“_

“That was not our doing, Spymistress, as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now. What would we have to gain by killing the one man able to reshape this nation in our image?”

“And that image is…”

“A weakened Fire Nation, subservient to the Earth Kingdom. Its people subjugated as our people were for so many years. Justice for our people and atonement for its royal family’s sins.” Shuran looked like she wanted to spit, but she kept her composure. “Ozai, we would have killed without hesitation. But Fire Lord Zuko is sympathetic, and for that reason, he merely needs to be influenced.”

“So why the Ozai propaganda?” Hina asked, crossing her arms. “A cover? To find allies?”

“You’re smart. I can see why he hired you.” Shuran’s lips curved into a serpentine smile. “We needed a believable cover for our activities, one the disorganized Fire Nation government wouldn’t easily see through. Posing as one of a million Ozai-loyalist groups was an easy one.” Shuran glanced over at Hina. “You, I see, weren’t so easily fooled.”

“I led the Liberation League for four years, Agent Yang,” she said coldly. “Subterfuge isn’t new to me.”

“The Liberation League?” Shuran raised her eyebrows. “So you _do_ share our ideals, or at least you did once.”

Hina’s blood boiled but she forced it to cool, clenching her fists to release her anger. “I joined the Liberation League in a time of war, seeking freedom for _both_ of the nations whose heritage I claim,” she said, her voice like steel. “I bet you didn’t know that I was half-Earth National, did you?”

“So you of all people should understand-“

“But I’m also Fire National,” Hina interrupted her. “And I saw that the ruthless conquest of the Fire Nation hurt not just the Earth Kingdom, but its own heart. And I wanted to end it.” She took a deep breath. “I did what I did in the service of the League because I believed in freedom and I believed that people are not made to be subjugated. But the war is over, both kingdoms are beginning to be free of their chains, and it is my job to secure that freedom.” She looked Shuran straight in the eyes. “Even if it means that I have to bring down people like you.”

Shuran regarded her for a moment, newfound respect in her eyes. “I like you, Hina Oyama,” she decided, shifting to face her. “You have spirit, and a fine mind. It is a pity that your heritage clouds your judgement.”

Hina wanted to grab the woman by her collar and scream until she deafened her that her heritage, the deep need she felt not to choose one part of herself over the other when she was wholly and wholeheartedly _both,_ was the only thing that had ever felt clear to her. She wanted to shake her until she realized that the oppression of one nation was the oppression of all. But instead she quieted her racing heart and said, as coolly as she could manage, “are you going to help me or are you not?”

“Ah, so you haven’t lost sight of your mission.” Shuran picked at her fingernails. “As I said, I’d have had no problem with attempting to weasel my way into the Fire Lord’s good graces. A powerful but sympathetic Fire Lady would be our greatest asset – think of all she could do to weaken the Fire Nation from within. But,” she said with a pointed look at Hina, “after your boss dodged every single eligible woman at his party to dance with that _waterbending peasant_ he so obviously has his heart set on, they decided that a change of plans was needed. And I would do anything to stop it from succeeding.”

“If I may, what _is_ the new plan?”

“If they cannot get him to choose a sympathetic Fire Lady, the next-closest they can come to the Fire Lord’s listening ear is his cabinet,” Shuran explained. “They want to pick off the cabinet members one by one and have them replaced with Phoenix Society agents.”

Hina’s blood ran cold. “Would that happen to include-“

“You? Oh, Spymistress, you’d be the first to go.” For as much as she’d claimed to hate the idea of it, Shuran seemed to be enjoying this. “Who else would’ve given the Fire Lord all that information on our activity?”

“So what exactly are you proposing?” Hina asked.

“A trade. I tell you everything I know about their plan of attack so that you can counter it, and you protect me when the Society finds out that I’ve defected.”

“And how do I know you’re not lying?”

Shuran glanced up to the top of the amphitheater and back down, and in an instant, she was tackling Hina to the ground. Every reflex in her body told Hina to run, that she’d been trapped, but before she could even land a blow, Shuran was helping her to her feet and running, dragging her out of the amphitheater.

An arrow whizzed past the spot where they’d been seated only a moment before.

“That arrow was supposed to kill you,” Shuran told her. “I was to pretend to be a defector to get you where they wanted you. This would’ve been an ambush, had they not failed to consider that I loathed the idea of senseless violence enough that I might _actually_ defect. Proof enough?”

  
A chill shot through Hina’s body and she nodded as they ran, zig-zagging to make themselves more difficult to hit as they approached a sheltered alcove. “You have a deal, Agent Yang.”

* * *

_Dear Zuko,_

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so, so stupid. I can’t believe myself. I can’t believe that_ that _was the moment I had to freeze up, right when the thing I’ve wanted for so long just happened. I’m sorry that all I could get out was “oh” and stunned silence._

_  
You probably think I don’t want you now, and I wish I could run to you and tell you that nothing could be further from the truth. I want to be with you more than almost anything, but I was so taken aback. I wasn’t expecting it, not after spending so long thinking you didn’t feel the same way. And you’re getting married, Zuko. And even this isn’t enough to make me believe that anyone would ever let it be me you chose._

_I’ve never been the best writer, and I’m too heartbroken right now to write anything pretty, especially when I’ll never send this, but I’m sorry, Zuko. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I waited and I’m sorry I let you think I didn’t feel the same way and I’m sorry I ever thought that my love wasn’t returned in the first place. It was so obvious, now that I look back at it. I wish I’d seen the signs. I wish I were in your arms right now. I probably would be, if I’d had a better answer to give you back in the palanquin._

_But I’m not, and I probably never will be. I guess that’s my fault._

_But Spirits, Zuko, I love you. It’s not even fair how much. Sometimes I look at you and I’m grateful that I’m not a firebender, because if I were, I’d probably light every room you entered on fire by accident just because I can’t control my brain when it comes to you. I love you and I need you and I want you so badly that the idea of you married to someone else makes me sick to my stomach. Being here with you these past few months, I’ve been happier than I’ve been in ages. I can’t imagine my life without taking meals with you and hearing your voice in the morning when you’re still waking up seeing you smile sheepishly across your desk at me when you make bad puns on purpose._

_I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry._

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

_Love,_

_Katara_

* * *

Aang was the first to discover Katara in her state of disarray, barging into her chambers waving a piece of paper without so much as knocking. He looked as agitated as she’d ever seen him, but when he saw Katara’s tear-stained face, he forgot his grievance.

“Katara, what happened?” he asked, hurrying to the bed where she was curled up against the pillows, hugging one to her chest as her shoulders shook. “Are you okay? Is it Zuko?”

“He told me he loved me,” she sniffled, burying her head in the satin-covered pillow she was holding, “and I said ‘oh.’”

Aang grimaced when she wasn’t looking, sitting down next to her. “You feel the same way, don’t you?” he asked.

She glared at him. “Of course I do. You knew that.”

“Then go tell him that,” Aang said gently. “He’ll probably be so happy that you felt the same way that he’ll forget all about it.” 

“It’s not that simple, Aang,” she stammered. “He has to get married, and no one in his Council is ever going to let him pick me.”

“It’s Zuko. If he wants something, he’s going to get it whether people give him permission to or not.” Aang put his hand on her shoulder. “Go on. He’s probably in his rooms.”

“Not so fast,” she replied, raising her head from the pillow. “You looked madder than a hungry platypus-bear when you came barging in. What was that all about?”

Aang sighed, uncurling his hand to reveal a crinkled note. “A few days ago, Hina got a letter from a Phoenix Society agent saying she wanted to defect, and they agreed to meet. But she didn’t tell me where or when, and this morning, I woke up to find” – he unfolded the note. “This. ‘Aang – going to meet contact. Safest if I go alone. Don’t follow me.’”

“So…you’re mad that she left you behind?” Katara sat up, crossing her legs. A knowing smirk began to form on her face. Far from heartbroken, she seemed almost teasing now. “Is that all?”

“It isn’t that, Katara. It’s that she isn’t _safe_ when she does stuff like this!” Aang insisted, gesturing for emphasis. “I know she can handle herself, but meeting enemy contacts alone is dangerous for _anyone._ I don’t know why she keeps doing this, but it’s driving me crazy.”

“Because…” Katara prompted, definitely smirking now.

“Because she doesn’t even seem to value her own life!” Aang pinched the bridge of his nose. “Doesn’t she know how important she is? She can’t just keep risking her life like this!”

“Important to the Fire Nation or important to you?” Katara asked.

Aang’s cheeks flushed; he could be dense, but clearly he’d caught her drift. “Both, I guess,” he said sheepishly, picking at one of the tufts in the comforter.

  
“Someone has a crush,” Katara teased, lightly elbowing his side. “Aww, that’s so sweet! You like Hina?”

“You make it sound like I’m twelve,” Aang groused. “Okay, I admit it. Yes, I’m attracted to her, fine! And we make a great team, and she’s pretty, and passionate about her work, and she makes me laugh even though she doesn’t think she’s funny-“

  
“And therefore, you’re mad that she didn’t want to risk the life of the Avatar on a mission she thought she could’ve handled herself?” Katara’s still-misty eyes danced with amusement.

“I knew I should’ve asked Zuko about this,” Aang muttered, crossing his arms.

“Maybe you should explain _that_ to her instead of chewing her out for being reckless?”

“Only if you go tell Zuko how you _actually_ feel about him,” Aang challenged. With a playfully spiteful glance back at him, Katara got up to go.

“Fine. Wish me luck,” she said, ignoring whatever he said in return as she made her way down the hall to Zuko’s chambers. Her heart was lighter even as it felt like it had been cracked in two, and she rapped on Zuko’s door with confidence she didn’t really have. “Zuko?” she called. “Can we talk?”

“He’s not here, Minister Katara,” one of the guards at his door said. “Sorry. You just missed him. He had an emergency meeting.”

“With who?” Katara’s stomach plummeted and her false confidence followed it. “He didn’t tell me he had-“

“It came up suddenly,” the guard said. “He had to meet with Lady Mai.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all should've seen my devious grin when I wrote that last line. 
> 
> "I'm so evil!" - me, gleefully, posting that cliffhanger


	20. Mending Bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko is summoned to an unexpected meeting with Mai that neither of them is very enthused about; Aang is upset with Hina's recklessness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I'd never let y'all hang off that cliff for more than a couple of hours. This one sucks, and is short, and it's basically filler to get from point A (confession) to point B (them actually confronting each other), but it does resolve a cliffhanger so I guess there's that?

“I have to say, Zuko, I never expected you to call me in for a meeting.” Mai leaned against a table in the parlor he’d been called into, a little more animated than usual. “What gives?”

“I didn’t.” He gritted his teeth, wishing he could give his Council a piece of his mind. “It must’ve been my council. They’ve been trying to marry me off and I’d bet you anything I’m going to be getting a lecture after this about how I need to ‘consider the needs of the country’ or something.”

“Oh, I’ve heard. Pretty hard not to hear about an announcement that went out to practically every eligible woman in the Fire Nation.” Mai appraised him with more interest than usual. “You look awful.”

“Gee, thanks.” He glared at her. “I’m really sorry about this, believe me, I am. I didn’t know they were going to bring you here, and I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

“Oh, I didn’t expect that you did,” Mai said coolly. “It wouldn’t be like you to come running back, now would it? I mean, you _did_ leave me to rot at the Boiling Rock.”

“Um.” Zuko’s face flamed. “I regret that, and you can rest assured that I haven’t.”

“I knew that, Zuko. Word gets around,” she said with a smirk. “Pretty impressive, managing not to give a single dance to an eligible girl at a party thrown specifically to get you a wife.”

“I did dance with eligible girls!” he protested. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to defend himself, but he nevertheless did. “I mean…two of them were single?”

“Oh?” Mai raised an eyebrow. “And did either of them catch your eye? Do tell. I’d love to get out of here if you’ve already got prospects.”

“Well, one was my Spymistress, so no.”

“And the other one?” Mai probably already knew, but she seemed intent on dragging it out of him. “What of her?”

_Well, I might as well lay it on thick if that’s what she’s going to do._ “The other one flat-out rejected me an hour ago.”

“Oof. Sorry about that,” Mai said, surprisingly sympathetic. “Let me guess. The waterbender girl?”

“Her name is Katara,” he told her through gritted teeth, and Mai smiled knowingly.

“Right. Katara. She rejected you?” Mai grimaced. “That’s unfortunate.”

“I told her how I felt and she said – and I quote – ‘oh.’” His cheeks reddened at the memory. “I should’ve just kept my mouth shut. As if I needed another thing to deal with right now.”

“Oh, yeah, I meant to ask how you were feeling. Heard you got stabbed.” If Mai sensed the irony of her expressing concern about his stab wound while there were several knives on her person, she didn’t show it. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah, all thanks to Katara,” he said, his face falling again. “She saved my life.”

“But still broke your heart. Tough luck,” Mai sighed. “I haven’t exactly been lucky in love either, but that sucks.”

“Yeah, so now I have to deal with a group fomenting rebellion, a stab wound, a forced marriage to a woman I don’t love hanging over my head, unpopular decisions to make, a broken heart _and_ a Minister of Social Services who won’t speak to me.” Zuko crossed his arms. “So my life’s been pretty great. And I bet yours has been-“

“Boring,” they said in unison, surprised to find themselves laughing at the accidental synchronicity.

“Not a lot to do, honestly. I was thinking about applying for university, just to do _something,_ ” Mai told him. “I’ve always liked history. Studying it more in-depth might be a nice distraction.”

“That’s great. You should do that,” Zuko said, sincere but a little stiff. “I’m pretty much stuck here, but you…you can go wherever. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Believe me, I will,” Mai huffed. “My parents are breathing down my neck to get married already, and it’s only a matter of time.”

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Zuko squeezed his eyes shut, sighing. “ _Agni,_ I wish it could’ve been Katara.”

“Who knows? You might still be able to win her over.” Mai shrugged. “I mean, ‘oh’ is a pretty open-ended response. Maybe she was just surprised.”

“You, optimistic? What is the world coming to?” Zuko was only half-joking, but he didn’t miss the tiny smile Mai gave him in return for his efforts. “I mean, I think that was a pretty firm ‘no’, but…”

“Well, you got a girl who you’d broken up with in a letter to risk her freedom to save you from your own sister, so I’d say you’ve got a shot.”

Zuko flushed again. “I really am sorry about that, Mai. I did a lot of stupid things back then, and I want you to-“

“Oh, save it, I knew that,” Mai sighed. “I really don’t need to hear you trip over yourself to apologize for ten minutes.”

“Oh. Um…do you think they’ll be mad at me if I kick you out, then?”

“Please. Of course they will.” Mai picked at her fingernails disinterestedly. “Wanna sit here sulking for another twenty minutes to convince them that you gave me a chance?”

Zuko wanted to be surprised by that unexpectedly generous offer, but deep down, he wasn’t. Mai knew what it was like to have her path chosen for her by someone with an agenda; if anyone could sympathize with his plight, it would be her. (He briefly wondered why he hadn’t thought of that earlier, though it didn’t take much thinking to remember exactly why he’d avoided Mai for years.) And…

Well, if she was as willing to bury the past as she made herself out to be, he might have a valuable ally in a girl who, an hour ago, he’d never wanted to see again.

They sat in silence, brooding as both were apt to do, and he showed her out of the palace feeling a little less heartbroken and a little more seen than he had in quite some time. (Or…an hour. One hour with her rejection hanging over him felt like ten regular ones, he was quickly discovering.)

“Goodbye, Lady Mai,” he said formally, bowing as he was expected to do. “Write to me when you figure out what you’re doing with your life, okay?”

He winced a little at the way that had come out, but Mai didn’t seem to be fazed. “You too, Fire Lord,” she said, and with that, she was gone, ushered out by the servants who’d been sent to take her to her palanquin.

_Huh. Never thought I’d see the day,_ Zuko thought as he watched her leave. _Maybe I should take her advice._

Lost in thought, he made for Katara’s rooms and knocked at her door, but no one answered. His face flushed – _is she avoiding me?_ – but he kept knocking, and a servant whose name he couldn’t quite remember stopped as she walked by with a fresh set of towels.

“Lady Katara is out,” she told him.

“Oh. Would you happen to know where she went?”

The girl nodded. “The courtyard, I think.”

He thanked the girl and made off towards his chambers for a quick stop on the way to the courtyard. If he knew her, he knew before he arrived exactly why she’d gone there. And he’d be ready. 

* * *

“So what I’ve essentially been saying is that we’re harboring a fugitive now.”

Hina had been expecting stiff resistance. She’d been expecting Aang to get mad and protest endlessly about the danger and the possibility that this woman wasn’t trustworthy. But clearly, she’d forgotten that it was _Aang,_ bleeding-heart and instant truster of pretty much anyone he met, that she was talking to, because he did no such thing. The news of Shuran’s defection didn’t seem to faze him at all.

Something else did, though.

“You went _alone,_ Hina,” he said, his voice a wobbly combination of hurt and exasperated. “It could’ve been a setup, and then what? You wouldn’t have had any backup, and you-you could’ve…” he couldn’t even say it. “This happened with that courier in Ba Sing Se, too. I didn’t mention it then because there was no one there you could’ve taken with you, but this can’t be a pattern, Hina! You can’t keep going after dangerous criminals by yourself!”

  
“Why are you so upset about this, Aang?” Hina’s voice began to rise as her annoyance grew. _Why does he even care if I go alone?_ “I can take care of myself!”

“Yeah, so can I, but I still wouldn’t go into a situation that could be a trap without backup!” he threw up his hands. “We’re supposed to be _partners,_ Hina. It’s my _job_ to be there for you and make sure you have someone to help you get out if things go wrong. Why can’t you just-“

“And it’s _your_ job to keep the peace, which you’re not going to do a very good job of if you’re hurt or killed!” Hina shot back. “It’s not that hard, Aang. I can handle myself, and I’m more expendable than you. End of story.”

To her surprise, it was not anger but genuine hurt that flashed in his eyes at that. “Expendable?” he asked, incredulous. “How could you _ever_ think you were expendable?”

“I’m not the Avatar, Aang, _you_ are. If we’re going to work together, I have to be able to decide when it is and isn’t worth putting you in danger.”

“Being in danger is just a part of doing what I do, Hina-“

“The same could be said for me, so don’t even try that!”

“Maybe it could, but that doesn’t change the fact that as your _partner,_ I’m supposed to be there with you to!” he shot back. “Do you have any idea how worried I was when I got that note?”

“Look, Aang, I’m sorry, but sometimes I have to do things that neither of us like to get a job done. End of discussion, nothing you can do about it-“

“But you don’t have to be _reckless,”_ Aang countered. “Honestly, Hina, one of these days you’re going to send me into the Avatar State!”

“ _I was completely fine on my own!”_

He stopped short, his face falling, before he shook himself, recovered his train of thought, and kept going. “The Fire Nation _needs_ you, Hina,” Aang said, as sincere as she’d come to expect him to be. “And _I_ need you.”

“You have other friends, Aang,” Hina said, tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. As much as she willed herself not to cry, she couldn’t help but think of how close she’d come to being ambushed, and the genuine sadness Aang seemed to feel at the prospect of losing her and _her specifically,_ as if she were special somehow.

(Images flashed through her mind: his hand at the small of her back, that _look_ as he boarded the boat to Kyoshi Island, his awed expression as he told her she looked beautiful – she shoved them to the back of her mind, not wanting to try to unpack what they meant, but they were there nonetheless.)

_He cares about me,_ she realized, and though the sentiment couldn’t have been simpler, gooseflesh rose on her arms at the idea of it – of someone caring enough for her to value her safety over theirs.

“I do,” he admitted, stepping closer and taking both of her hands. She thought about pulling away before she realized that she didn’t want to. “But no other Hina.”

Somehow, as she drew her hands back in shock, she knew exactly what that meant.

* * *

“Aren’t you supposed to be meeting with Mai?” Katara spat, without so much as looking at him, when Zuko entered the courtyard, directing a volley of water at the hapless wall in front of her.

Zuko’s breath caught for a moment, watching her: she wore nothing but her bindings and a pair of loose trousers, and as she channeled every ounce of her…rage? Frustration? He wasn’t sure…into her bending, she’d never seemed more powerful.

“The council summoned her, Katara. I had nothing to do with it, and I sent her away.”

“Oh?” Katara let her water whip drop, turning to him. “So you’re not narrowing down your options?”

“Narrowing dow- _Katara!”_ Zuko yelped as if it had been him, and not the wall, who she’d struck with a water whip. “How could you even think that?”

“You can probably imagine!” she cried, turning back to the wall. Unperturbed, Zuko stepped closer.

“You’re going to bring that down in a few minutes,” he told her. “Take it out on me instead.”

“Huh?” she turned again, her face clouded with conclusion until she saw his clothes – a loose tunic and trousers not unlike her own – and the fog cleared.

“Spar with me?”

He knew she wouldn’t refuse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, no, whatEVER is going to happen next? Points for guesses :p


	21. Let it Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tension between Katara and Zuko comes to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man oh man, you guys are going to be ready to MURDER ME by the end of this chapter.

Sparring was familiar territory by now, after all the months Zuko and Katara had spent together: it was a way to let it all out, and to spend one-on-one time together, and nothing quite compared to the rush of honing their craft with a worthy opponent.

But it had never felt quite like it did today.

“You wanna tell me,” Katara shouted across the courtyard, aiming a water whip for Zuko’s ankle, “why you told me you loved me and then ran off with Mai not an hour later?”

“I didn’t even know she was coming!” Zuko shouted back, countering with a badly-aimed burst of flame that she easily dodged. He was distracted, nowhere near focused enough to give the match his best, but it wasn’t about that right now; this was pure catharsis, expending energy and anger that had nowhere else to go. “My Council set up the meeting to try to get us together!”

“Well, that’s just great!” Katara snapped, freezing his feet to the ground while he was distracted enough to allow it. He thawed them in seconds, but it was still embarrassing to have been thrown by such a simple maneuver.

“Why are you even so upset?” he shouted, turning on his heel and sending a blast in her direction. “You’re the one who said ‘oh’!”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to firebend while you’re distracted?” Katara chastised, her face going red in a way that couldn’t possibly have been the result of the exertion. She brought a wave of water crashing down on him, freezing another path to slide out of reach of a volley of fireballs he’d sent her way. Where Zuko was flustered and distracted, Katara was all focus, channeling every ounce of the tumult of conflict and anger and fear raging in her mind into her every move. He spun flames towards her, she doused them in an arc of water and swept the water back into a sphere in her hands as if it had been nothing; he feinted left, she anticipated his attack and was waiting to block his blast with a stream of water on the right.

“You’re changing the subject again,” Zuko accused, noticing with frustration that the gap between them had narrowed a few yards as they fought. He barely had to yell to be heard anymore, even as he swept a wall of flames towards her. “Why are you doing that? Just tell me you don’t see me that way already!”

“I can’t!” Katara replied, visibly taxed for the first time after putting out this last round of fire.

“It’s okay, Katara, I can take it,” he said, and this time he knew before he even aimed that he’d miss her by miles. His heart hammered in his throat and he froze for a moment, barely remembering to finish the move he’d been making before he lost focus completely. “Just tell me-“

“I can’t tell you I don’t feel the same way,” Katara panted, closing the gap between them even further. Close enough to fight hand-to-hand now, she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around to face her, blocking his halfhearted attempts at counterattacks with ease.

“But I just told you that you-“

“Honestly, Zuko, are you even trying?” She shot around, locking her arm around his neck to pull him into a headlock. His back was flush against her now, and she could feel the shortness of his breath in the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders where she’d locked her arm in place. He practically went limp the moment he felt her skin on his. Now her breath was coming in short, too, as she realized how close they were –

_Wait, I can use this._ In an instant, Katara had released him from her grip and, whirling around, took a few more steps towards the nearest wall and pushed him against it, calling up a wave of water to freeze him in place. She stepped back, triumphant, and he just stared at her, his expression unreadable.

“That’s a harsh way of telling a guy you don’t like him, Katara,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant but coming out choked.

“I’m not, Zuko.” The tenacity in her eyes disappeared in a blink and suddenly she was vulnerable, bare in a way he’d never have expected after the match they’d just had, so fueled by feelings he could only guess at. “That wasn’t what I was trying to tell you. Not in the palanquin, not here.”

Zuko began to thaw the ice around him. “But you said-“

“Spirits, Zuko, I _know,”_ she groaned, burying her face in her hands. “It was the stupidest answer I could’ve given, and I’m sorry, but it’s not that simple.”

Zuko’s breath caught in his throat and he approached her as soon as the ice melted, not daring to touch her. “Katara, what are you saying?”

“Don’t you know that already, Zuko?” Katara looked up at him with all the regret in the world pooling in her eyes. “I may not be right for now – I may not _ever_ be right – but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel the same way.” Her already-red face flushed an even deeper crimson. “I’ve _always_ felt the same way, Zuko.”

Zuko’s eyes widened, and emotions she could read from miles away flashed across his face: first shock, then disbelief, then elation. He reached out to grab her hands, his own shaking, and she squeezed them, meeting his hesitant, radiant smile with one of her own, small and shy and sure. “You…you have?”

“I thought it was obvious,” she muttered, skimming her hands along his forearms and marveling at the way such a simple touch from her could raise goosebumps on his skin. “’Careful, sailor’…”

If it were possible, his smile grew even wider, and he pulled her into a crushing embrace. “Oh, Katara,” he mumbled into her hair. “You don’t have any idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

“I have some,” she muttered against his sweat-soaked tunic, nuzzling her cheek into its fabric. Even its smell didn’t bother her at a moment like this. Right now, it was the easiest thing in the world to forget it all: why she’d held back, why this didn’t mean happily-ever-after, why a confession would do nothing more than open the door to heartache. Right now, all she wanted to do – all she even _could –_ was drink this moment in, every detail from the smell of smoke still lingering in the air to the feeling of her sweaty cheek against the damp fabric of his tunic and each one in between.

She wanted to live in this instant of time. She wanted this to be enough, she wanted to keep it forever even as she knew that it wasn’t and she couldn’t and no matter what happened in this moment, she’d never stop asking for more. She’d known it all along, how he was his own point of no return: how even a single moment of release in the tension they’d allowed to build for three long years would leave her unable to live without it. Once she’d had a taste, she’d inevitably demand more – more time, more touch, more of him in every way – and, in the back of her mind, a nagging little voice told her not to get the feeling of him stuck in her head.

_You can’t keep him,_ it told her. _He has to put the good of his country before his personal desires. His Council wants him married off to someone proper, and you are anything but. Don’t come between him and his duty to the Fire Nation-_

“Katara,” he breathed, and every doubt came unraveled at its seams. He released her, leaning back into the wall as he threaded his fingers through her hair and searched her face, his eyes skimming its topography with a newfound awe.

“Zuko,” she whispered, because it was all she could say, all that made sense. She cupped his cheeks, and suddenly every inch of her skin was hyperaware of the miniscule gap between them. All that remained between them were three inches and self-control, and both were rapidly deteriorating. Her better instincts cried out to resist, to leave before she passed the point of no return, but she couldn’t listen anymore.

Katara had spent so long saying no – to him, to her own feelings, to opportunities. She’d given what part of herself others found useful freely and concealed the ones that they might not, keeping her messiness locked in the same safebox as the dreams she’d buried long ago. But the more time she spent under the ashy, humid skies of this city, the closer that safebox had come to being unlocked: Zuko had unlatched the compartment that contained her dreams of doing something to ease the world’s suffering when he gave her work to do, and she’d let them fly, and now she’d released the secret she’d harbored for so long, too. Slowly, painstakingly, life had been directing her here, and it was here that she’d burn that safebox to ashes or hang on and forever wonder what it might’ve been like if it were emptied.

And an invisible, unstoppable tug on her heart told her to let it burn. Let it burn in glorious light and color, let it burn until all she smelled was smoke because smoke was _him_ and therefore home, let it burn and see what she’d been meant to find before she’d locked away so much of herself.

So she did.

“I love you,” she breathed. “And I don’t think I’m ever going to stop.”

“Don’t, Katara,” he murmured, his hands cradling the back of her head. “Don’t ever stop.”

  
And before she knew what she was doing, Katara pushed his shoulders against the wall and closed the last inch of distance.

Zuko stiffened at first, shocked, and Katara tried to pull away, her cheeks flaming. But before she had a moment to think, something in him shifted, and he pulled her into him so fast their foreheads almost knocked in his desperation to feel her lips on his. At first it was a gentle, tentative thing, Zuko’s hands resting at her waist and his lips gentle and almost hesitant against hers, but it took only a moment for Katara to recognize the familiar thrum in her chest and heed its call.

_More._

She buried her fingers in his hair, pulling him down to her height and kissing him with all the hunger of a traveler lost for days without food. All she knew, in that moment, was the hum of a gentle but insistent electricity between them, the feeling of lips and hands and heartbeats, and a lightness in her heart as it danced in her chest that she’d never known. Zuko broke the kiss after a few moments but he didn’t pull away, resting his forehead against hers, his arms around her waist.

“I love you, Katara,” he said. “I would’ve said it before but…”

“Yeah.” She giggled, pressing a playful kiss to his nose. “Kiss first, talk later.”

“I should’ve known that would be your style.” He dropped his chin to rest against her shoulder. “Agni, Katara, I love you so much. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anything more-“

That was simply too much to bear, and she grabbed his tunic to pull him in once more. This time, kissing Zuko felt as natural as her bending did, an extension of herself, an art to be cherished and practiced and mastered. In the instant of that kiss she felt herself wishing for thousands more, and though she knew she couldn’t have them, she longed all the same. Sunrises and sunsets flashed by in the span of that kiss; a thousand small moments she’d never know were made impossibly real in her mind the instant their lips met.

Perhaps it was the words he’d said – sweet words had always been her undoing. The least she could do was try for a few of her own.

“Careful, sailor,” she said when they broke the kiss. “Wouldn’t-“

He captured her lips again, though the kiss was brief this time. “Too late for that,” he whispered, caressing the line of her jaw and meeting her eyes in an unwavering gaze. “I’ve been lost for a long, long time.”

“I love you,” she gasped again, leaning into him, because there was nothing else to be said, and because those three words could never fall from her lips enough times when it came to Zuko. “I love you so much, Zuko. I love you, I love you, I-“

  
This time when he kissed her into silence, his hunger matched her own. He kissed like he’d been starved of it, like she was his only hope of survival, and for neither the first nor the last time, every inhibition Katara could’ve imagined fell away as she met him in the kiss, matching his ardor and then some. This time she was out of breath when they broke apart, and he released her, holding only her hands as she stood back a few more inches. He met her eyes and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind, not if the way he looked at her like certainty itself meant anything. He paused for a fraught moment and Katara’s heart kicked an insistent drumbeat against her ribs. _What is he-_

“Marry me, Katara,” he breathed.

In an instant the fear kept at bay by their closeness came roaring back into her mind like ice off a calving glacier. Katara dropped his hands, stunned.

  
“Don’t,” she said, her voice trembling. “Don’t make it harder for me to say goodbye.”

She fled into the cloudy afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all probably want to yell at Katara through the screen already, and that's valid, but she's got a point, right? Zuko's only getting married to please a council that would never approve of her. So even though it's sad, her idea that she's sparing him from later heartbreak by saying no before it gets REALLY serious isn't without basis. 
> 
> But it's fanfic so love conquers all...right? right? ;)


	22. Pursuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuran gives Hina relatively useless information; Zuko isn't willing to let his chance to be with Katara slip away that easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As evidenced by the 23 comments in my inbox when I woke up this morning, y'all hated me for that last chapter. I know. I KNOW. I come in peace to fix these idiots' terrible choices! 
> 
> ...but first ya gotta deal with Hina and Shuran talking about politics, because I'm evil like that ;)

“There are four ministers on Zuko’s cabinet: yourself, Maiyin Guo, Wei Luong, and Haruki Rinata.” Shuran reached for a tea cake from the tray in front of them as she regarded Hina and Aang with unshakeable coolness. It was almost unnerving, the way she conducted herself with such indifference towards absolutely everything. “Obviously, the amphitheater was supposed to pick you off-“

_“What?”_

_Agni must hate me,_ Hina wanted to groan, but she decided that keeping her cool would have the best results, and she simply ignored Aang’s outburst. “Yes, obviously, but it didn’t work,” Hina said, moving the conversation along with her best _please-just-drop-it_ face. “So what do you think they’re planning next?”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Aang said, desperately trying to rein in his indignation. She nodded curtly and motioned for Shuran to continue.

“Now, this whole mission was highly compartmentalized, so I don’t have all the relevant information,” Shuran told them, “but I did know the order. You were going to be killed first because you knew too much, then Maiyin because her connections to organized crime made her death look less suspicious. Your death could’ve been made to look like a mission gone wrong, and any of a thousand people might’ve wanted to off Maiyin, so it wouldn’t have looked suspicious.”

“That leaves Minister Luong and Minister Rinata,” Hina realized. “So what were they going to do with them?”

“Minister Luong was next. He’s relatively inoffensive and has little power during peacetime, so he wasn’t a priority, but his former military status made him a bit of a personal vendetta for some of the Phoenix Society higher-ups.” Shuran took a dainty sip of her tea. “And then Minister Rinata. He is, like you, half-Earth National, and he’s done good work in securing the reparations for the Earth Kingdom, so the Society wants to keep him alive for the time being. But he’ll have to die eventually.” Hina shuddered at the way she said it so nonchalantly. “He’s a member of the inner circle, and they won’t let him forget it.”

“And where will I fall in that order now that they’ve failed?” Hina asked. “Am I still their first priority?”

“I’m almost certain that you will be,” Shuran said. “You are, even on your own, the single greatest threat to their success. And because you’re working with the Avatar, the Fire Lord, _and_ a defector who knows what they’re planning, they’ll have even more reason to fear what might happen if you were allowed to live.”

“Okay, that’s it!” Aang had been quiet but now he stood up, almost shaking with anger. “I’m not just going to sit here and listen to you talk about this like it’s no big deal. I’m getting Zuko and I’m telling him to-“

“ _No!”_ Hina and Shuran shouted in unison.

“Aang, we’re going to debrief Zuko as soon as we’re done with this, but if you go tell him now you won’t have all the information,” Hina said, laying her hand on his wrist to still him. He didn’t jerk out from under her palm, which was a good sign, but he still looked about five seconds from losing it completely. “He needs to know everything that we do, and we have to be able to tell him in an _organized fashion_ that-“

“Someone’s trying to kill you, Hina! Why aren’t you freaking out about this?”

_Ah. There it is._

Hina knew she wouldn’t be able to give him an answer he’d like, so she turned back to Shuran. “Agent Yang, do you have any information about the manner in which these assassinations were supposed to be carried out?”

  
“Other than yours, no,” Shuran said. “I was sent to deal with you-“

_“She was supposed to kill you?!?”_

“Aang!” Hina had had enough of this – of his unneeded protectiveness, of his anger, of his constant interruptions of a meeting that could very well save her life. “If you want me to live, you need to let her talk!”

“No, I’m done.” Aang stood and turned away from her, shaking his head. “I’m not going to sit here quietly while you two talk about how someone wants to kill you. I’m just _not._ Tell me what she says later.”

They both watched him storm out of the room, Hina with shock and Shuran with amusement.

  
“I think it’s sweet,” Shuran said coolly as soon as the door latched behind him. “Your boyfriend wants to protect you from-“

“He’s _not_ my boyfriend!” Hina wasn’t sure why her face grew so hot at the accusation. “He’s my partner, and the _Avatar,_ and he’s supposed to be better than-“

“He likes you, Hina. Of course his judgement’s going to be clouded,” Shuran said, sipping her tea. “Give him time. And maybe a kiss if you really need to shut him up-“

“Agent Yang, I could throw you out that window and no one would question it.”

Shuran glanced at the window behind her. “Hm. Someone’s in denial.” She chuckled to herself. “Fair point, Spymistress, but I know you won’t. Now, where were we?”

“Compartmentalization?” Hina tried to remember. “I’d just asked you how the other ministers were supposed to be- _wait.”_ Hina’s eyes widened. “You got something wrong.”

“I did?” Shuran raised an eyebrow. “I’m quite sure my intelligence was accurate.”

“It can’t be,” Hina said, her heart plummeting. “Because there aren’t four Ministers. There are _five.”_

Shuran thought for a moment, surprise crossing her face for the first time since they’d met. “You’re right,” she said. “Minister Katara was recently installed.”

“So where’s she in the pecking order?” Hina asked, trying to conceal her panic at the realization that the only information they had on the plan was incomplete at best and patently false at worst.

  
“Well, I never heard anything about her,” Shuran said, “which could either indicate that they don’t intend to kill her at all or that their plans for her had to be kept a secret.”

“What would necessitate that kind of secrecy?” Hina asked, taking a tea cake with a nearly-flawless façade of nonchalance.

“I’m not sure, truthfully,” Shuran admitted. “Perhaps they like what she’s doing and don’t want to kill her, but I doubt it. I think the most likely answer is that they didn’t see her as a threat until they realized how close she was to the Fire Lord.”

“Influence,” Hina realized. “You keep talking about that. And if they want influence-“

“No one is closer to the Fire Lord’s ear than the woman he loves,” Shuran finished. “Given that, I’d think the odds of her being early in the pecking order were…quite high.”

“And you don’t have the slightest idea when or how these assassinations are supposed to happen?” Hina asked.

“Well, I know how the Society usually assassinates people,” Shuran shrugged. “Sniper archers like the one at the amphitheater are relatively common. Sometimes it’ll be poison, though that only works if they can infiltrate the kitchens thoroughly enough to slip the poison into the target’s food. Still other times they’ll use an innocuous event to lure a target somewhere crowded but exposed and finish them off at close range before disappearing into the crowd.”

“And do you have any idea method which they might use for which minister?”

“Honestly, I’d be shocked if they used their conventional methods at all,” Shuran admitted. “They’re too well-known. They might use that last one on Minister Luong because he’s a known gambler and it would be easy and unsuspicious enough to get him into a seedy gambling den, but now that they’ve used one sniper and failed, I doubt they’ll try that again. And I know for a fact that they haven’t infiltrated the palace.”

“So what you’re saying is that _none_ of the information you just gave me is at all useful?”

“I said nothing of the sort,” Shuran replied. “I already told you how I suspect they’d kill Minister Luong, and I’m confident that I’m right. Does that count for nothing?”

“Sure, but Minister Luong is the least of our worries.” Hina crossed her arms. “I’m the only one with the firsthand knowledge to know how best to counterattack, and if anything happened to Minister Katara, the Fire Lord would be so devastated that he’d be completely ineffective at his job for at least a few months. Minister Rinata is critical if we want to get the Earth Kingdom to the table to renegotiate the reparations, and even Minister Guo’s more important. Can you imagine how many criminal organizations would absolutely not hesitate to kill whoever was responsible for the loss of the most powerful contact they’ve ever had?”

“But Minister Luong-“

“Is strategically unimportant.” Hina wanted to scream, but she kept her voice at a neutral volume. “All I know now is the order in which we’re all supposed to die, and I have _nothing_ that I can use to prevent that.”

“You may be right, Hina Oyama,” Shuran said, “but you cannot say I gave you nothing of importance.”

With that, Shuran picked up her skirts and swept out of the room as if she’d never been there.

* * *

Zuko found it bitterly ironic that, after all those months of chasing Katara around, he’d found himself doing it all over again.

He could feel the eyes of everyone he passed boring into him as he ran down the hall – yes, _ran,_ there was no time for anything less – but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Elation and heartbreak and frustration and desperation met in him and he could do nothing but expend that nervous energy in chasing the source of those feelings. She’d gone to her chambers, probably; he was headed there now. Part of him wondered if he should leave her be, but he didn’t heed its doubts – not when she loved him, and he loved her so much he felt like combusting. Not when the reason she felt she could not be with him was _fear,_ not a lack of love.

He’d show her, then. He’d spend every single _day_ showing her that she never had to fear the consequences of loving him, that he’d make every single one disappear with a flick of his hand if it meant sharing his life with her. He’d wait; he knew he’d been rash when he’d asked that question ( _why did you say that?_ He’d wanted to scream as soon as he was alone), and if it took time to win her heart, he’d gladly give it. He’d do _anything,_ now that he had known the sublime sensation of being loved by her.

So he ran through the halls, still in his sweat-dampened sparring clothes and complete disarray, and he ignored every eye and whisper as he passed. He had a mission now, and as he had years ago, his determination was single-minded. _I love you, I love you, I love you,_ his heart thrummed, and as he knocked at her door, it rushed to a crescendo. “Katara?” he called, knocking frantically. “Katara, are you here?”

“I told you not to make it harder to say goodbye,” she called back from behind the door. Her voice was wobbly – _she’s been crying,_ he realized with a pang – and she didn’t come to the door.

“Katara, I know I was rash, and I’m sorry,” he said, leaning against the door. “But please, hear me out.”

By some miracle, she opened the door. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, and she’d changed into a silky red bathrobe; evidently she’d had time to clean up. “I shouldn’t do this,” she said, looking down at the floor, “but okay.”

He wanted to take her into his arms, then, and rub her back and murmur apologies for making her cry, but he didn’t think she’d take it well. “Thank you,” he said instead. “Um. Would you like to sit?”

“It’s _my_ room, Zuko.” She sniffed and led him to her bed; they both perched at the edge and Katara’s shoulders slumped. “So what do you still think you need to tell me?”

“Um.” His heart felt like it was going to catch in his throat. “Well, first of all, I’m sorry that I spoke so-“

“Don’t be,” Katara said. She still wouldn’t look at him. “I understand why you did it.”

“But I made you cry, Katara.” When she finally looked up at him, her eyes widened at his expression – at the stricken look on his face, and the simple remorse in his eyes. A breath hitched in her throat and he reached out to cup her cheek. “I hate making you cry.”

She leaned into his touch as easily as she breathed, raising her hand to press against the one that cupped her cheek. Her chin trembled as she leaned in. “It’s not your fault, Zuko,” she said, her voice barely rising above a whisper. “If it were up to you, none of this would’ve happened, I _know-“_

“It still _can,_ Katara,” he told her. “If you’re willing.”

“It’s never been about whether _I’m_ willing, Zuko.” Katara dropped her hand from his. “You’re expected to marry someone proper and well-liked, please the council, and no matter how hard you try, you’re never going to be able to convince them that I can be that person.” She moved an inch or so away from him, which might as well have been the Great Divide for all the distance it put between them. “I’d just get my hopes up and then find out that I had to say goodbye all over again.”

“Katara, that isn’t _true.”_ He took both her hands and pressed them to his heart. “I’m the Fire Lord. They might not like it, but I can make them deal with it. And I _will,_ Katara.” He squeezed her hands in his. “You would be an incredible Fire Lady. And there’s no other woman I’d ever want to be my wife.” 

“Zuko, your duty is to the Fire Nation!” Katara snapped, tucking her knees up to her chest and curling in. Without thinking, Zuko closed the space between them, wrapping his arms around her shoulders; she turned and leaned into his touch, burying herself in his arms. “You can’t let me get in the way of that.”

“Yes, it is, and that means that I have to pick a Fire Lady who’s going to help me make it a better place.” He ducked his fingers under her chin and lifted it so that her eyes met his. “No one’s ever going to do that better than you would, Katara.”

“But they’d never accept me,” Katara protested weakly. “You think I don’t _want_ this? Spirits, Zuko, I’ve never wanted anything _more._ But I’d never forgive myself if I made you even more unpopular, and something happened, and…and…”

  
“ _That’s_ what you’re worried about?” he held her as tightly as he knew how, pressing her into his arms. _Stay here,_ he wanted to tell her, but he couldn’t. “That I’d…that you’d…”

“One of many things,” Katara sniffled, fisting her hands in the fabric of his tunic. “There’s a reason I loved you for three years and never said anything.”

“I wish you had,” he murmured, kissing the crown of her head. “Three years with you…”

“I know,” Katara sighed. “But I know how much you love this country, and I’d never get between you and your duty to it, and-“

“Shh. None of that,” he chastised, running his palms along her forearms. “The fact that you think you could ever do anything but make me _better_ at this job…” 

“You have people to please, Zuko,” she sighed. “It’s not just about reform and reparations. You said it yourself. If you want to stay in power, you have to balance that with the wishes of your advisors and nobles and the Council-“

“Damn the Council.” He had to remind himself to breathe, frustration and anger catching in his throat as they were. “Damn the Council and anyone else who tells me you’ll ever have to say goodbye.” 

“Y-you can’t make promises like that,” Katara stammered, her tears beginning to fall again. “And even if you c-could, how could we go from friends to… _married…_ without even-“

“Six months, Katara,” he said, rubbing circles against the fabric of her robe. “I have six months left. And if you’ll have me, we can use that time to figure this out.”

“What does _that_ mean?” her voice was wobbly still, but there was an unmistakable undertone of hope in it.

“It means,” he said, threading his fingers through her hair, “that I want to court you. I want to try this out. And at the end of that six months, if you don’t want to marry me, we’ll go back to the way we were, but if you do…well, we’ll go from there.”

Katara’s breath caught in her throat. “Zuko, you…you-“

“Am so in love with you that I can’t take it anymore,” he said, releasing her so he could look into her eyes. “If you don’t want this, I’ll never bring it up again. But if you do, and you want to give this a try…”

“I do, Zuko,” she admitted. “You have no idea how much.”

“Then let me show you what it could be like,” he told her, his heart soaring. “Would you like that?”

She pulled away, and a smile like a sunbeam through the clouds stretched across her face. “I would love that, Zuko.”

“I would too,” he said, and before he could lose a single second more of time, he leaned forwards to kiss her. She laced her arms around his neck, melting into the kiss like butter in the sun, and though her lips tasted like the salt of her tears, he’d never known a moment more perfect. He’d fought for this kiss, practically begged for it, and it was the sweetest release he could imagine.

“Rip my heart out, Katara,” he told her, his hands resting on either side of her face when she pulled away. Absently, he remembered where those words had come from, and he almost laughed at the memory, brooding in his study over that letter. “Make me wait, put me through the wringer, tear me to shreds.” He leaned forwards to catch her lips again. “Break me into a million pieces, and every single one will wake up tomorrow loving you more than it did when I went to bed last night.” He rested his forehead against hers.

“When did you learn to talk like that?” she teased, her breath hitching as she tangled her hands in his hair.

“When I fell in love with you,” he told her, pulling her into his lap and relishing the way his heart flipped in his chest at her delighted yelp of surprise. “It’s true, you know.”

The way she kissed him, Zuko knew she believed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: that Haang argument we all saw coming, Shuran continues to be a slightly evil-adjacent but helpful snake, and Zuko sets out to romance Katara.


	23. Bearer of Bad News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara and Zuko settle into their new relationship before receiving bad news; Aang is distressed by the threat to Hina's safety and wonders why she doesn't seem to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be a fluff chapter for Zutara and an angst chapter for Haang, but we still have plot to get through before we can dive into the full-on *romancing*. It's gonna be stolen moments like this for a few more chapters while we deal with this new Phoenix Society threat. That said, please enjoy. 
> 
> Also, given how close Zuko is to Hina, I refuse to believe that Zuko and Katara engaging in PDA during debriefs with her would be OOC. This is a hill I will die on *peaces out*.

“Remember when you told me you were going to ‘romance me,’ whatever that means?” Katara asked with a smirk, glancing up from the documents she was poring over. “This isn’t exactly what I thought you meant by that.”

  
Zuko groaned, but she could tell he loved to be teased like this. “Will you _ever_ let me live that down?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Katara giggled, “but…’romance me’? Who _says_ that?”

Zuko crossed his arms petulantly. “You shouldn’t put that much stock in anything I say when we’re making out, Katara. You _know_ my brain’s not working properly when you do that…thing with my hair…” he flushed crimson.

“Still never letting you live it down,” she cut him off, her laughter bouncing off the wooden walls of the study. The sound of it alone, clear and bright as a chiming bell, made Zuko’s heart stutter – she was so _beautiful_ like this, smiling and open and lighthearted. Her joy was contagious and he couldn’t help but wonder why either of them had held out for so long when _this_ would’ve been the reward for their courage if they’d spoken up. “Now, remind me again how writing a speech to present with my healthcare reform proposal together at six in the morning constitutes romance?”

“Um.” Zuko wracked his brain. “Uh…this job is the reason you stayed here with me long enough for me to get my head on straight and tell you that I loved you?”

She reached across the table to grab his hand and gave it a little squeeze, leaning across and looking up into his eyes. “Zuko,” she teased, “I was _kidding.”_

“Oh.” His face flushed. “Sorry, I didn’t realize…”

She leaned up to kiss him, and though it lasted barely more than as second, it felt like coming home. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” she teased. “Now, what order do you think I should put the complaints in?”

“Hm…who was that guy who said he’d rather be sentenced to eternal punishment than spend ten days in the South Wing?” Zuko asked. “I’d put his first. It’ll grab their attention.”

“Smart.” Katara began to write. “You thinking we should start and end with the strongest ones?”

“That sounds good. Then you can shove the less memorable ones in the middle so the Council only remembers the worst stuff they said.”

“Yeah, that’s what I had in mind.” Katara paused to write for a moment and then continued. “I really can’t believe this worked so well.”

“Well, I can.” He grabbed her free hand and pulled it across the table to kiss it. “My girlfriend is brilliant.”

“Oh, stop it,” she demurred, blushing but obviously pleased. She had every reason to be: true to form, the wealthy patients who’d been moved out of their cushy East Wing accommodations had complained endlessly about the squalor they were being treated in. Katara had visited them all the day before to record those complaints, which they were all too eager to share, word-for-word, and since most of the patients were still ill or injured and couldn’t be brought in to bolster the case for her budget changes when they presented it to the Council, they’d be the best evidence of the need for change that they could get. Katara had left the hospital with her faith in humanity severely dented (“why is most of this country’s wealth in the hands of selfish idiots?” she’d asked Zuko, who’d insisted on riding along for a chance to spend time with her even though he didn’t go in, when she returned), but her argument would be all the more convincing for it. “It’s not like I even did anything. Those patients gave me everything I needed.”

“Still brilliant.” Katara couldn’t help but notice the way he was looking at her like she’d hung the moon, then; she smiled back at him, feeling oddly shy. She’d known and loved him for so long that it shouldn’t have been at all out-of-the-ordinary, but she was taken aback sometimes by the awe and adoration and unadulterated _joy_ in the way he looked at her. “How much more do you still need to write?”

“Just the closing statement. Why?” she asked, glancing up at him out of the corner of her eye as she began to write again.

He looked a little guilty at that, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “…I wanted to kiss you,” he admitted.

“Oh, Zuko,” Katara laughed. “You are truly ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he countered.

“Hm, guilty as charged.” She dipped her reed pen in the inkwell again. “But you can wait ten minutes, okay?”

“Ten minutes?” Zuko pouted. “You were right. There _isn’t_ anything romantic about writing speeches.”

  
“Ten minutes and you can have all the kisses you want, love.” She kept her head down but he could see that she was smiling even with her face turned towards the paper. He watched her a little pathetically, his eyes following every stroke of her pen and every adjustment of her delicate hand until she jabbed the pen back into the inkwell with a triumphant smile and declared, “done!”

“So do I get to kiss you now?”

Katara leaned across the table for a quick peck. “Yup.” She got up, realizing the position wouldn’t work. “That’s not a good angle, though. I’ll come over there.”

“How’s that going to work?” Zuko asked, eyeing Katara with equal parts wariness and curiosity as she approached his side of the desk. Smirking, she settled herself into his lap, turning so her legs were perpendicular to his across the armrest of the chair and tucking them under to fit them on the cushion.

“Like this,” she said, pulling him in by the front of his shirt.

His arms encircled her waist, letting her uncomfortably-straight back rest against him, and he smiled. “That’ll work.”

And he wasted no time.

* * *

Hina rapped at the door of Zuko’s study at seven-thirty sharp, exactly on time for the debrief she’d scheduled after getting every morsel of information she could out of Shuran, but no one answered. She raised her eyebrow – _weird, he’s never late –_ and knocked again.

No response.

Growing worried, Hina checked the door, which wasn’t locked, and debated for a moment whether to go in. She could hear the rustling of fabric as someone moved and wondered if he’d stayed the night in his study and overslept; maybe Zuko was just waking up and needed a minute. “Zuko?” she called through the door, hoping the use of his first name when she always used titles when on official business would get his attention. “It’s me, Hina.”

Still nothing. Well and truly worried now, Hina swung the door open, steeling herself for whatever might lie on the other side. She unsheathed the dagger she kept at her belt and-

_Oh._ Now she knew what that rustling of fabric had been.

Zuko was seated at his desk chair as she’d expected him to be, but she had decidedly _not_ been expecting to see Minister Katara curled up in his lap, rather eagerly kissing him – or Zuko just-as-eagerly kissing her in return. His hands were tangled in her hair, hers around his waist, and she chose to pretend she didn’t hear any of the rather undignified sounds the two were making. They came up for air after a moment, so wrapped up in each other that they had no idea she was there, and rested their foreheads together. Zuko’s hand came up to caress the line of Katara’s jaw and she leaned into the touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, capturing her lips again in a softer, sweeter kiss. Hina looked away as they melted into each other because it was simply too private a moment to invade – and, perhaps, because _that_ word had an effect on her that she refused to admit even to herself – and after a moment, she cleared her throat.

“Apologies for the interruption, Fire Lord.” She couldn’t help but smirk. “And Fire Lady.”

Katara’s face flushed bright red and she rushed to untangle herself from the complicated position she’d had to twist into to fit on the chair. “It’s not-“

“Spymistress. Apologies for the, uh.” Zuko was so flustered he couldn’t even finish the sentence. “Yeah, um…I’m sorry.”

Hina snorted. “Glad to see you took my advice. It was about time.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Katara shamelessly snuggled into his torso, burrowing into his robes just because she _knew_ it would have him hilariously flustered. “Mind if I stay for the meeting?” 

Katara had clearly been joking, but Hina nodded. “Actually, that would be helpful. This intelligence is relevant to you, too, so it would be nice if I only had to debrief once.”

“Wait, it is?” Katara looked a little surprised by that, though she still didn’t make a single move to get out of the Fire Lord’s lap.

“I’m afraid so.” Hina swallowed hard; usually compartmentalizing was easier than breathing for her, but in this moment, the idea of ruining the couple’s long-awaited happiness with the news that they were in danger was about as appealing as swallowing hot coals. “Do you want the short version or the long version?”

“Short version,” Zuko said, protectively curling his arms around Katara’s waist. _He knows, doesn’t he,_ Hina realized. _He knows I wouldn’t be debriefing them both unless something were wrong._

“I already told you that the Phoenix Society’s goal is to weaken the Fire Nation so that it can easily be made to be subservient to the Earth Kingdom,” Hina said stiffly, as if returning to businesslike formality would make this easier to get out. “If our contact’s intelligence is accurate, initially, they wanted to do that by getting you to marry a woman they planted in the pool of potential suitors as a mole. But after the party, they saw that you obviously were unwilling to choose their candidate as Fire Lady” – Katara looked subtly proud to hear that – “and changed tactics.”

  
“And what are they planning now?” Zuko asked. With every exchange, his hold on Katara tightened.

“What they want is influence.” Hina swallowed hard. “To infiltrate the government without making it known that they’ve done so. And to do that, they have to get rid of the one that’s already there.”

“What are you saying?” Now it was Katara’s turn to look worried, her right hand gripping his forearm protectively. “Is Zuko in danger?”

“No, he’s not.” Hina felt almost guilty when they both sagged with relief at that, knowing it wouldn’t last. “But you and I are.”

The two were too stunned to speak for a moment before Zuko demanded, “how? What does Katara have to do with this? What do _you,_ for that matter? Why do they-“

“I’m a threat,” she said evenly, hoping that injecting a bit of calm into the situation would help to diffuse it before Zuko grew even angrier. “I know more about them than anyone else outside their ranks, and they know it.”

  
“But what about Katara?” Zuko demanded.

“We don’t know,” Hina admitted. “Her installation as minister was so recent that my contact has no information about their plans for her, but given that we know that they intend to kill the remaining four members of your cabinet, we can only assume that Katara’s life is in danger as well.”

Zuko’s eyes flashed and Katara, fazed but not defeated, spoke up in his stead. “Do you have any further information about their plans for the cabinet?”

“Only the order in which they were supposed to be killed,” Hina said. “I was to be first. The meeting I had with the contact was a setup and I would’ve been ambushed had she not defected and saved my life, and we have to assume, going forwards, that they won’t stop there. Then Minister Guo was going to be targeted, followed by Minister Luong.” Hina swallowed hard. “Minister Rinata was needed to negotiate the reparations, so he was going to be the last to be killed.”

A silence fell over the group as the news sank in. Hina sat ramrod-straight, fearful of the emotions she’d let slip if she showed any at all; Zuko and Katara’s position, once one of sweet, comfortable affection, was now a lifeline as they clung to each other, trading fearful looks that neither could do much to console. They held each other tight and cursed their luck, internally, to have been brought together so soon before life started trying to tear them apart once more.

Then Katara broke the silence.

“If it’s influence they want, I have to be a target,” she said, swallowing a lump in her throat. “It’s been known that I’m a personal friend of Zuko’s for ages, and there were all kinds of rumors after people saw us dancing. There’s no way they don’t know that I’m…important to him.” He squeezed her shoulder. “So I think…”

“We’ll post an extra squadron of guards to every Minister’s quarters,” Zuko decided. “And they’ll be accompanied everywhere until we can be sure that the threat has passed.”

Hina nodded approvingly. “I’d also suggest locking down as best you can and cancelling any upcoming events or appearances,” she said. “We have to limit the opportunities for Phoenix Society agents to get into the palace, and for the Ministers to get out where they’ll be exposed. So…no more hospital visits.” She searched their faces but couldn’t read them. “Or gambling dens for Luong, or anything like that. Our intelligence acquisitions will take a hit if I can’t go out to get it, but we have other agents who can go in my place. I know it’s extreme, but we need to do everything we can to keep the cabinet safe.”

“I agree,” Zuko said hoarsely. “I’ll put out the order as soon as we finish here. Is there anything else we should know?”

“No, Your Majesty.” Hina rose and bowed formally. “I’ll do my best to make sure the cabinet complies.”

“Stay safe, Hina,” Zuko said, and she nodded as she shut the door.

She didn’t need to stay and watch the couple react to the news, hear whispered promises and see their consoling caresses as they tried to stomach the news that Katara’s life was in danger together. The thought of it made her stomach churn.

So she latched the door, squeezed her eyes shut, and began the long, lonely walk back to her chambers alone for what might be the last time for weeks.

* * *

“Hina, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Aang broke into a run when he saw Hina approach, jogging to catch her. “Where were you?”

“Debriefing Zuko. You knew that,” she said, sounding a little annoyed.

“Oh. Right.” He had known that, but he’d forgotten. “Anyway, we need to talk.”

“Is this about me ‘endangering myself’ again?” she asked, her fingers forming quotation marks around the words. “Because I’m not changing my mind about that.”

“No, Hina, it’s about the fact that someone tried to kill you and you didn’t even think it was important enough to tell anyone!” Aang threw up his hands. “And now you learn that they’re trying to do it all over again and you don’t even _care?”_

Hina’s eyes flashed. “You think I _don’t care?”_ she snapped. “It’s _my_ life on the line, Aang. Of course I care! But what am I supposed to _do_ about it?”

“Ask for more guards? Don’t go places alone? I don’t know, _anything!_ Just stop pretending that this doesn’t matter.” He tried to meet her eyes, but she wouldn’t look at him. “Because it _does_ matter, Hina. The Fire Nation can’t afford to lose you.”

“It’s my job to serve my country, Aang.” Hina’s tone grew icy. “If something happens to me while I’m trying to protect it, that’s just the way things will have to be.”

“But Hina-“

“Don’t ‘but Hina’ me, Aang. I _know_ you’d do exactly the same if you were in my position.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “You have to go into risky situations all the time, but you never think anything of them. So why is it different when _I_ have to do it?”

Aang realized with a sinking sensation that she had a point. “It’s not,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t _try_ to be safe if you can.”

“You’re still not answering my question,” Hina snapped. “You could be telling this to any of the ministers. I debriefed them all, and _none_ of them – except maybe Katara – seemed worried. Mayin’s faced death so many times that she couldn’t care less because she knows she’ll get away, Wei is just numb to it all, and Haruki is in such denial that he doesn’t even _believe_ me. So why _me?”_ Hina demanded.

Aang wondered how she could possibly not see it, but he continued anyway. “Because I care about you, Hina,” he told her, his voice small. “I care about you way too much to just let you throw yourself into danger when you don’t have to.” He swallowed hard. “I guess I just want you to care about your safety as much as I do.”

Hina shook her head. “I may be in danger, but I’m _also_ the only one who can protect the cabinet. I have to do whatever I can, regardless of the personal risk.” She let out a long sigh. “I appreciate your concern, Aang, I really do. It means a lot to know someone has my back. But I know what I have to do.”

Aang wasn’t satisfied, but he didn’t know what else to say, so he simply walked beside her, silent. She stopped in front of him when they reached her chambers and she set her hands on his shoulders. “I can do this, Aang,” she told him. “It’s risky, but I’m up to it. And…” her face flushed. “I have you.”

“You do have me,” he said, pulling her into his arms. A week ago she’d have stiffened or pulled away, but now she was content to rest in his offered embrace for a moment, letting him tuck her under his chin as he’d grown to love doing. “You’ll always have me.”

“That a promise, little Avatar?”

  
He almost laughed at the irony. “You say that like I’m not a foot taller than you.”

“Yeah, but we both know that I’m taller than you in spirit.”

He rolled his eyes fondly and his heart swelled at the familiarity, at the teasing lilt in her voice, at the way the comfortable warmth of her tiny frame melded with his. “That’s a promise, short stuff.”

She let him go and smacked his arm. “You’re gonna live to regret that, little Avatar.”

He laughed, unable to help himself, he leaned his elbow atop her head as if she were an armrest. “Sure I will.”


	24. Stolen Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara presents her proposal to the council and has some long-awaited alone time with Zuko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A FLUFF CHAPTER? WHAT IS THIS? Think of it as a reward for your patience in waiting almost 70k words for these idiots to get it together and get together.

“Zuko?”

At the knock on his door and the sound of his name, Zuko dropped the scroll he’d been reading to the floor in his rush to answer it. It was almost embarrassing, just how eager he was to see Katara after a few hours’ separation, and the voice at the door was unmistakably hers. “I’m coming!” he called, throwing a robe over his sleep pants and making his way to the door.

“Morning, love,” she told him as soon as he’d opened the door, threading her arms around his neck and leaning in for a quick greeting kiss, and it was all he could do not to melt and go limp in her arms where they stood.

“Morning,” Zuko replied, pulling her in to rest against him. “You’re up earlier than usual.” He narrowed his good eye. “And aren’t you supposed to be guarded?”

“Oh, I am.” She widened the opening in the door a crack to reveal two rather uncomfortable guards standing outside. “I just told them not to follow me in here, as one does.”

  
“Hm, good call.” He smiled against her lips as he leaned in. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“I wanted to see you before the Council meets,” she explained. “Thought it might help me calm down.”

“Are you nervous?” he asked, wrapping his arm around Katara to pull her into him as they made their way over to the bed. She made a show of flopping backwards across the bedspread and he followed, sprawling out beside her.

“A little,” she admitted. “I know my plan is good, and I have evidence that not even they can ignore. But…it’s the Council.”

“You seem a little more worried about them than they deserve,” he teased, rolling on his side to get a better look at her. “First you think they have a chance in the world of stopping me from being with you, now this-“

Katara stretched up to grab a pillow and smacked him with it. “They were _legitimate concerns.”_

“They’re just a bunch of stodgy old men. You could take them all without breaking a sweat.”

“Zuko, I’m _persuading_ them, not _sparring.”_ She smirked. “I wish I were, though. I’d just challenge them all to an Agni Kai and call it a day.”

“As much as I’d love to see that, you aren’t a firebender,” Zuko pointed out.

“No.” Katara smiled sweetly, then pulled him into her arms, his head resting against her chest. “But you are.”

“Mm, true.” He craned his neck to kiss her, his hand cradling her face. “Would you like that?”

“Hm?” she asked, leaning into the touch. Her tone was intentionally coy and his heart picked up speed at the sound of it. “Would I like what?”

  
“If I,” he said, pulling them both to their sides so they faced each other again, “challenged my Council to an Agni Kai?”

She smiled cheekily. “Of course, but for what cause?” she teased, snuggling in closer until she was nearly flush against him with just enough distance between them to hold eye contact. “You’ve got to have a reason.”

“Hmm…” he brought his arms around her waist. “My lady’s honor, of course.”

She laughed. “You and your _honor.”_

“What?” he feigned offense at that. “Is it so wrong of me?”

She kissed him before he could go on. “No, but I’d rather beat them with an airtight argument for hospital reform than a firebender boyfriend out to avenge every slight against me that they’ve ever made.”

“You will, Katara.” His expression turned serious and he brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “You’ve worked so hard. And that patient who said he’d…what was it, ‘rather be sentenced to eternal punishment than spend one more day in that trash heap?’…really won’t hurt, either.”

Katara chuckled. “He’s a selfish idiot, but I ought to send that man a gift basket for that.”

  
“Mm, maybe.” Zuko pressed his lips to her forehead. “You’re going to be fantastic, and we’re going to celebrate afterwards.”

“We are?” she smiled shyly. “How?”

“However you want,” he replied. “I mean. Inside the palace, obviously. But we could sneak into the kitchens, feed the turtleducks, spar, come back here and make out…”

Katara smirked. “Nice try.”

He pouted. “It was worth a shot.” After a pause, he continued, “but I _do_ want to celebrate, now that we’ll have a little time together. Think about what you would want to do, okay?”

“That sounds nice,” she said. “I will.”

They fell silent after that, Zuko catching her eye as he threaded a lock of her hair and gently twisted it around his finger before letting it fall back against her face, just…watching, because she was _breathtaking._ He almost couldn’t believe, looking at her like this – sprawled out beside him, smiling softly and not even concerned that she was ruining her hair before the biggest meeting of her life – that he, who’d never been lucky a day in his life, had somehow had the good fortune to win the heart of someone like her.

“I love you, Katara,” he murmured, cradling her head to rest against his chest. She leaned into the contact and pressed herself closer.

“I love you too,” she murmured.

  
It was all they needed to say.

* * *

Katara’s heart hammered in her chest as she stood and made her way to the head of the table where the Council met, trying not to notice the eleven pairs of eyes trained only on her. Some councilmen coughed, making their disapproval known in subtle ways; others simply looked as if they were already bored, or offended by her very presence.

_You’ve taken on worse,_ she reminded herself, steeling her spine. She’d rehearsed dozens of opening lines, trying to choose the one that would give her the best chance of getting through to these men; confident in the one she’d chosen but not necessarily in herself, she cleared her throat.

“It’s the job of a government to protect its people,” she started, training her eyes on the wall in front of her to avoid meeting the scrutinizing eyes of the councilmen. “So after my first visit to the North Wing of Caldera City General Hospital, I was left wondering why this government continually chooses to neglect its duty to the people of the Fire Nation.” She took a deep breath to steady herself before she went on.

  
“When I arrived at the hospital, I was shown to the East Wing, where patients were being treated in completely satisfactory conditions. It was clean, fully-staffed, and well-kept. Had the entire hospital been held to such standards, it would have been adequate. But,” she paused, “when I reached the North Wing – and, on later visits, the South and West wings as well – I realized that that wasn’t the case. The other wings were dirty and unkempt. Nothing was kept clean, there were vermin allowed to run free through the halls, and it was so understaffed that the majority of patients had to give time they simply did not have to wait for care from doctors who were wildly overextending themselves trying to treat as many people as they could.” She paused, throwing a glance around the room to gauge reactions – so far, relatively neutral. “I later learned that these wings were the public ones, set aside for patients who couldn’t pay for better care. And that injustice is one that, as the Minister of Social Services, I’m unwilling to let stand.”

_Now for the hard part._

“That is why, given the evidence that I will provide,” she continued, “I propose that healthcare be prioritized in the government budget so that the hospitals can be kept well-maintained, adequate staff can be hired, and the quality of care that patients receive can be independent of their ability to pay for it.” Now the Council was beginning to look a touch more indignant, but Katara pressed on.

“However, if my account doesn’t convince you, I’ve also come prepared with evidence of the need for change from sources you are likely to listen to.” She unrolled the scroll in her hands and cleared her throat. “Over the past month, the Liang family generously agreed to sponsor the transfer of ten North Wing patients, chosen by the hospital staff on the basis of need, to the East Wing. In exchange, ten East Wing patients with minor conditions were transferred to the North Wing in their place. And _all_ of them, regardless of underlying condition, wealth, status, age, or anything else, had complaints to make about the state of the hospital.”

She stopped to breathe, locking eyes with Zuko in an attempt to tune out the scandalized whispers of the councilmen. He nodded – about the only gesture he could make without causing another scandal – and she bit her lip, trying not to smile. _He’s got your back no matter what,_ she reminded herself, and unrolled her scroll again once the Council had quieted. “After hearing of the complaints they were making to the hospital staff, I asked each patient to share those complaints, and they were all eager to tell me how inadequate the conditions they were being treated in were. I’ve brought a few of the most salient of their comments to share with you.” She cleared her throat. “Haoyi Fan, eldest grandson of the Fan family and heir to the Fan Firearms and Munitions fortune, said, when asked how he felt about his care, said that he would – and I quote – ‘rather be sentenced to eternal punishment than spend ten days in that hospital. There are cockroach-mice everywhere, it smells like death, and I don’t think they’ve cleaned in here in months.’”

She glanced around the room to see if that had landed and almost smiled when she saw that it had. The Fan family’s company had been a prominent arms manufacturer during the war, and everyone knew the name; the idea of its scion being treated in such conditions was outrageous to the Council. The whispers picked up again. “And Yilin Zhou, who I believe is the niece of Councilman Zhou” – she pointed out the councilman in question – “said that, quote, ‘I’ve never felt more sympathy for the poor than I did when I was put in this Agni-forsaken wing. These conditions are a crime against humanity.’” Councilman Zhou looked like he’d swallowed rocks. “And, to give one more example, Zijun Soo – yes, _those_ Soos – told me that she ‘hadn’t seen a doctor in two days’ because there were so few of them stretched so thin.” This time, when Katara’s eyes traveled around the room, they locked on each councilman’s defiantly. “So if you won’t take it from me, take it from the Fire Nation’s most illustrious families. Reform is desperately needed, and the best way to get it is to fund the hospitals, hire inspectors, and ensure that they are complying with the regulations which the Fire Lord and I have drawn up for hospital maintenance.”

  
It was Councilman Zhou, still incensed at the use of his own niece against him, who finally spoke up. “But Minister, where are we going to _get_ that money?” he demanded.

Katara regarded him serenely and said, without batting an eyelash, “the military budget.”

  
She watched them erupt into outrage with something like amusement. _Too easy,_ she thought to herself. She caught Zuko’s eye again; this time he looked rather panicked and it was her turn to offer an encouraging nod. He almost smiled before ordering the Council to quiet down and let her finish.

“It’s simple, really,” she said. “Now that we’re no longer at war, a reduced military budget would go a long ways towards programs improving the quality of life for ordinary citizens. I know that it isn’t what any of you would choose, but it would do immeasurable good for the people of the Fire Nation.” She tidily rolled up her scroll and tucked it into her belt, clearing her throat. “I urge you to consider this proposal, at very least.”

“But Minister!” at least five voices cried out at once as she returned to her seat – absolutely _no one_ missed that she’d been seated where a Fire Lady would normally be, which only incensed the council even further – and she ignored them all.

Zuko grabbed her hand under the table and gave it an encouraging squeeze after she took her seat next to him. She couldn’t look at him for fear of arousing suspicion – no one had noticed the tiny gesture in their state of distraction, but they might if she’d met his eyes – but her cheeks flushed a little. It pleased her, knowing that he thought she’d done well; politics weren’t her area of expertise, so it felt good to know she was succeeding.

Even if she had a stampede of angry councilmen whose arguments she had to counter on her hands.

* * *

“I don’t know why I never thought of doing this earlier,” Katara said, her face lighting up as she bit into a still-warm pastry filled with red bean paste, stolen straight from the tray. The cook had tried to protest but couldn't exactly tell the Fire Lord not to steal his cooking, so they'd gotten away with their hands full of warm pastries. “This is _perfect.”_

“Told you.” Zuko reached for another. “Congratulations, Minister.”

“They haven’t passed it _yet,_ ” she countered, but she couldn’t hide her sheepish smile. “Don’t congratulate me until I actually get them to agree.”

“Oh, they will, trust me.” He squeezed her hand. “All those families whose kids or parents or grandparents got moved to the North Wing are jumping on the hospital reform bandwagon now, and it’d be pretty bad if the Councilmen lost their support. They might hate it, but they really don’t have a choice.”

“Then I guess I do have something to celebrate.” She smiled before taking a bite of the bun. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that you seated me in the Fire Lady’s position.”

Zuko’s face went red. “Where else was I supposed to put you?”

  
Katara laughed and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I don’t mind, Zuko,” she reassured him. “It’s a little premature, but…I don’t mind.”

“Would you?” he asked, trying to sound casual and failing spectacularly. “I mean, mind? Being Fire Lady?”

“I’m still mulling it over,” she teased, knocking her shoulder into his. “But in all seriousness…” a tentative smile spread across her face. “No, I don’t think I would.”

“You’d have to give up your position,” he pointed out. “I mean, you’d have other ways to make change, but…”

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t just do both,” she teased. “Sure, my title would change, but I’d keep doing the same work.”

“You could,” Zuko agreed. “Though I must warn you that the pressure for heirs-“

“Is not a problem. If we’re not ready, we’ll just tell them we’re not having much luck in the heir-producing department and no one will ever be the wiser.” Katara smirked. “You say all of this like it’s hard.”

“You’ve…” he flushed an even deeper red. “You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” 

“Of course I have, Zuko. It’s _me.”_

“One of the many reasons I love you,” he said, still red but undeniably pleased. “And Katara?”

“Hm?”

“I have it on good authority that if you ever did decide that you wanted to be Fire Lady, you’re exactly what the Fire Lord is looking for.”

“You are in incurable sap, you know that?”

  
“Oh, I know. You love it.”

She kissed him by way of a reply. “Sure I do.”

* * *

“Hey, you wanna-“ Katara poked her head in the doorway to Aang’s bedroom and stopped short.

  
He and Hina were seated next to each other on a couch that _really_ didn’t require them to be so close together given its size, hunched over a scroll, and a smirk spread across her face.

“Never mind,” she said loudly. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Aang looked up from the scroll and flushed, realizing what this looked like. “Hey, Katara,” he said, his voice oddly wobbly. “What’s up?”

  
“Zuko and I have a pretty wide-open day, so we just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out.” She winked unsubtly at them. “Spymistress Oyama can come, too, if she wants.”

“Oh, sure!” He brightened, rolling up the scroll and standing. “We needed a break anyway. Hina?”

“Um.” Hina looked uncomfortable, but not for any of the expected reasons. _She really doesn’t realize, does she?_ Katara observed, amused that someone so perceptive could miss something that seemed so obvious to her. “I don’t know-“

“Oh, come on!” Aang tugged on her arm. “It’s not like we were getting anywhere with that intel anyway.”

“Fine,” Hina sighed, letting him drag her by the hand. “What are we doing?”

“We weren’t sure yet,” Katara admitted, taking Zuko’s arm and leaning against him when they rejoined outside the door. “Any suggestions?”

“Pai sho,” Hina said drily. “We could play pai sho.”

Zuko grimaced. “ _Please_ no.” Then the oddness of Hina’s presence here hit him, and he narrowed his eyes, glancing questioningly at Katara; they hung back, letting the other two get a little bit ahead of them.

“They were reading something together when I came in. Not sure what, but they were… _close.”_

He gave her a strange look. “They’re partners. It’s probably just work stuff.”

“Yeah, but Aang told me he likes her.” She grinned, watching them walk along arm-in-arm. “And I’m pretty sure she’s not completely against the idea, even though she’s totally in denial.”

  
Zuko’s eyes widened. “Aang and _Hina?”_ he looked like he wasn’t quite sure he believed it. “When did _that_ happen?”

“It hasn’t,” Katara said. “Which is why I’m giving them a little nudge.”

“By letting her hang out with us?”

“Precisely.” She grinned. “And I think I know exactly how to do it.”

  
“Oh?” Zuko glanced over at her. “And how would that be?”

“You’ll see,” she said, picking up her pace to catch up with Aang and Hina. They were having an animated argument about something – neither was quite sure _what_ – when the two caught up, and Hina immediately caught the smirk on Katara’s face and narrowed her eyes warily. But Aang began to argue once more, and everything seemed to be forgotten-

And Zuko wondered, for a moment, what he was getting himself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really freaking glad that hospital subplot is done now, tbh. Now we can have romance! and Intrigue!


	25. Know Thyself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko, Katara, Aang, and Hina enjoy an afternoon off before receiving unexpected news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fun one, but be warned, it's another cliffhanger.

“So…what exactly are we going to be doing in here all day?” Hina crossed her arms, still not entirely sold on the idea of an afternoon of third-wheeling with her two best friends and Zuko’s new girlfriend.

“Well, we can’t leave, right?” Katara shrugged. “So we might as well make the most of a rare opportunity to do absolutely nothing!”

“Yeah, but does that really require being locked in a parlor all day?” Hina countered. “Somehow I feel like this time could be better-spent.”

“Hina, you have to take breaks,” Zuko cut in. “It’ll be fun.”

“Fine,” she huffed, more willing to listen to him than to Katara. “I guess it is safer here.”

“And we weren’t making progress anyway,” Aang pointed out, moving closer to her on the loveseat they were sharing. “We need to get our minds off of it for a while.”

“Right,” Hina acquiesced, leaning back into the plush pillows of the loveseat. They’d seated themselves in pairs: she and Aang shared the small couch, a bit too consciously trying to avoid touching, and Zuko and Katara had curled up together in an armchair, her legs tucked under her and his arms around her waist. Privately, Hina felt a little uncomfortable seeing her boss like this, though she was happy for them.

(Maybe it had a little to do with whom she was sharing her seat with, too, though she wasn’t about to admit it.)

“Okay, so I was thinking we could play a game,” Katara suggested, a mischievous glint in her eye. _She’s planning something,_ Hina immediately realized with a sinking sensation. Katara was smart enough to cause serious trouble if she felt like it, and it looked like she did.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hina said.

Aang looked at her curiously. “But why?” he asked. “It could be fun.”

“I just don’t think…oh, never mind.” There was no beating a united front of Katara, Aang, and Zuko, who’d inevitably take their side if it came to that, on this one. “What’s the game?”

“That’s the spirit!” Katara said a little too brightly. “Okay, so remember how Ty Lee threw that bachelorette party for Suki that she didn’t want the night before her wedding?”

“No, but it doesn’t surprise me,” Zuko said. “Why, is that where you learned how to play this?”

Katara nodded. “We played that night. Basically, you pair up and each set of partners gets asked the same questions. They have to try to answer those questions for each other, and whoever can give the most accurate answers wins. Got it?”

“Oh, come _on,”_ Hina groaned. “This is so unevenly-matched. You and Zuko have known each other for _years,_ and I’ve known Aang for – what, six months?”

“Almost a year,” Aang corrected her.

“And no one actually said you guys had to be partners,” Katara pointed out, smirking. Aang and Hina both reddened. “But since you obviously want to be…”

“I just assumed – I mean, look at how we’re sitting, I, uh – it seemed to make sense…” Hina stammered, her face growing even redder.

“Hey, you asked for it.” Katara glanced back at Zuko as if he was supposed to have an opinion about this, which he obviously didn’t. “I think we should rotate asking the questions so no one can give their team an unfair advantage.”

“Sounds fine,” Hina said gruffly. “I’ll go first.” She thought for a moment, then smirked. “Okay. Which past Avatar is your partner’s personal favorite?”

“Oh, come _on!”_ Zuko protested. “How is that not an unfair advantage?”

“Hey, that’s why we’re rotating.” Hina smirked. “We can _all_ give ourselves unfair advantages, and therefore it’s fair.”

“I hate how smart you are sometimes,” Zuko huffed before they all lapsed into silence for a moment, thinking. He dropped his chin to rest against Katara’s shoulder, which Hina _seriously_ doubted had any effect on his odds of winning but tactfully chose not to mention.

“Okay, everyone have their answer?” Hina asked after a moment, glancing at Aang, who nodded. Katara and Zuko glanced at each other, too, and confirmed that they had. “Hmm…you guys go first,” she decided.

“Um, I actually have no idea,” Katara admitted. “I went with Roku, because, you know, he’s your ancestor and all-“

“You’re related to Avatar Roku?” Aang’s eyes widened. “How did I not _know_ that? He’s _my_ past life!”

“Yeah, he is, but no.” Zuko shook his head. “Not my favorite. I picked Kyoshi for Katara, but I doubt I was right.”

“Nope.” Katara looked up at him. “Why’d you think that?”

“Decisive, powerful, would kill you if you crossed her?” Zuko shrugged. “I don’t know. Who’d you actually pick?”

“You go first,” Katara said. “I actually really want to know what you said.”

“Kuruk, actually,” he said. “I guess I just always related to him.”

“Related? To _Kuruk?”_ Katara narrowed her eyes. “You’re _nothing_ like Kuruk.”

  
“Did anyway,” Zuko shrugged. He decided it would probably not be prudent to point out that an Avatar whose claim to fame was failing at his job so spectacularly that Koh the Face-Stealer made off with his fiancée was the absolute embodiment of the way he’d always viewed himself. “You?”

“Roku,” Katara replied. “Because-“

“Let me guess. Without him, the love of her life would never have been born?” Hina speculated, rolling her eyes. “Agni, you two are unbearable.”

“I mean, I also like that he balanced kindness with decisiveness,” Katara protested, but she didn’t deny it. “But yeah. That was a plus.”

“Aww, Katara…” he kissed her forehead and she beamed. “That was sweet.”

“Unbearable,” Hina muttered under her breath. “Um. Aang?”

“I picked Kyoshi for Hina,” he said, and Hina nodded. “Because her mom was a Kyoshi Warrior.” He grinned sheepishly. “And because she kind of reminds me of Kyoshi, too.”

“Wait, she was? I had no idea,” Katara cut in. “That’s really cool, actually. I have to introduce you to Suki sometime – maybe she knew your mom back in the day.”

“I doubt it, but yeah, she was cool.” Hina smiled hesitantly. “And yeah, he was right.”

“I knew it!” Aang crowed triumphantly. “What’d you pick for me?”

“Yangchen,” Hina said. “I wasn’t sure, but she was an Air Nomad, and I thought you might’ve admired her…spiritual connection, I guess?”

“Yeah!” Aang nodded enthusiastically. “You got it.” He raised his hand and she grudgingly high-fived him, her face burning the entire time. “So does that mean I’m next?”

“Sure,” Katara said, smirking again. _There it is again._ “You know, I find it kind of funny that the _actual couple_ is being shown up by-“

“What do you wanna ask?” Hina interrupted, visibly uncomfortable. “I can help you if you can’t come up with anything, just make it quick, okay?”

Aang gave her a questioning look. “Are you okay, Hina?” he asked. “There’s no rush, you know.”

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to keep her voice flat. “Just fine.”

“Cool. Okay…hm. What’s your partner’s most embarrassing memory?”

“Ooh, that’s kinda evil.” Now it was Hina’s turn to smirk. “Wouldn’t have expected that one from you, Aang.”

Aang shrugged. “I’m full of surprises.” They thought for a few minutes before he started up again. “I think Katara and Zuko should go first this time.”

Katara quailed. “Um…I’m not so sure that that’s-“

“Oh, no, you’re going,” Hina cackled. “Let’s hear it. Zuko’s most embarrassing moment?”

“Um…” Katara’s cheeks turned crimson. “I don’t think this is it, but the best thing I could think of was the fact that his first words to me were ‘I’ll save you from the pirates.’”

Hina burst out laughing. “You’re joking,” she wheezed. “ _That’s_ what you said when you met her?”

“It was a very strange time, okay?” Zuko protested, even redder-faced than his girlfriend. “And no, that was not it, and thanks a _lot!_ Hina’s never going to let me live that down!”

“You’re absolutely right,” Hina said smugly. “What about Katara’s?”

Zuko smirked, his embarrassment all but forgotten. “She’ll know what this means,” he said. “’Be careful, sailor…’”

  
“ _Zuko!”_ Katara squealed, unable to stop herself from laughing as she smacked his arm. “I thought we agreed never to bring that up again!”

“I seem to recall you used that line on me _again_ about four hours ago, so no, we definitely didn’t.” He flicked her shoulder affectionately. “I take it I was wrong, then?”

Aang looked mildly green. “I’m not even going to ask.”

“Thank you,” Katara said, mortified. “You don’t want to know.”

“But I do,” Hina cut in. “Do tell.”

“Um. No.” Katara glared at the other girl, crossing her arms. “My real most embarrassing moment was kissing Jet. Remember that, Aang?”

“Oh, Spirits, I wish I didn’t,” he groaned. Zuko looked equally queasy. “ _Ew.”_

“Exactly,” she said, before adding, “stupid wheat straw,” under her breath. “Zuko?”

“Um.” He flushed. “The box of horrifyingly sappy unsent love letters I wrote you every month for three years.”

Katara’s eyes widened. “You did that?” she looked an odd combination of touched and amused. “Oh, I am _so_ finding that box.”

“They’re _bad,_ Katara,” he insisted, blushing profusely. “You have no _idea_ how bad. The pining was _intense.”_

She laughed and kissed his cheek. “Then we’ll have a good laugh over them, right?”

  
“Again, unbearable.” Hina looked nauseous. “Aang? What’d you put for me?”

“Pretending to be an author trying to publish Iroh’s poetry for an undercover op,” Aang said. “But I honestly have no idea.”

“I don’t either,” Hina admitted. “I couldn’t think of anything.”

“Mine was running around for a whole day yelling about how my friends needed to suck on frozen frogs,” he said. “It’s probably better not to ask.”

Mercifully, no one did, though they all looked as if they wanted to.

“Um…I won’t,” Hina said. “Mine was kind of similar to Katara’s.” She sighed loudly. “When I was fourteen, just before I started leading the Liberation League, I had a _massive_ crush on the current leader’s second-in-command, Rin. Like, heart-eyes, blushing-and-staring, all of that. So, anyway. He had to go on a mission to blow up a munitions factory one day and we all knew he might not make it back, so, um.” She picked at her fingernails, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “Walked right over and planted a fat one on him before he left. He was horrified.” She managed a halfhearted chuckle at that. “Of course, that made things awkward when he didn’t end up dying on that mission. So that was mine.”

“That seems very out-of-character for you,” Zuko observed.

“Extremely.” Hina was all too eager to change the subject. “So, it’s still us – two, you – zero. Next question?”

“Hmm.” Katara thought for a moment. “Okay, where does your partner like to go when they need to think?”

This time, Aang was the first to go. “There’s this garden in the back of the palace that no one ever goes in,” he started, and Hina immediately nodded in recognition. “It’s all overgrown and everything. Hina goes back there when she needs to think.”

“Yeah, I do.” She smiled almost shyly. “I actually put the same thing for Aang, since, um. Well, I’ve never seen him run off anywhere else, at least not in the palace.”

“No, that was the answer I would’ve given,” he said. “I mean, I only know about it because of you, but it’s good for that.”

“Two points to Team…wait, what’s our name?” Hina asked, her enthusiasm plateauing. “What should it be?”

“The Conspiracy Busters?”

“Aang, _no.”_ Hina pinched the bridge of her nose. “We are _not-“_

“Two points to the Conspiracy Busters,” Katara said, her smirk returning. “For a total of four. Now, um. Team-“

“Obnoxiously Disgusting?” Hina offered.

To her surprise, Katara played along. “Sure. Team Obnoxiously Disgusting it is. Zuko, what’d you put for mine?”

“Anywhere where you can see the ocean, if possible,” he said. “If not, there’s this one fountain-“

“In the rose garden!” Katara replied. “That’s the one. Point to Team Obnoxiously Disgusting! Zuko’s is the turtleduck pond.”

“Yeah, it is.” He smiled at her, a private smile even in the presence of others. “Two points to Team Obnoxiously Disgusting!”

“But we’re still beating you,” Hina gloated. “You better stump us with this next one, Zuko, or you’re gonna lose.”

“Challenge accepted.” He cracked his knuckles. “Okay. What’s your partner’s favorite thing about you?”

“Good one.” Katara smiled smugly, snuggling up against him. “I think I know what you’re going-“

  
“Like, physical feature or…anything?” Hina asked warily after a moment.

“Anything,” Zuko replied. “Anyone need more time?”

“No, I know I’m good,” Aang said, glancing at Hina. “You?”

“No, I’ve got it too,” she said. “Zuko, you haven’t started yet. You want to go?”

“I think I have, but sure. I thought Katara would pick my, um. _Sensitivity.”_

“And by that you mean the fact that you’re an incurable sap?” she teased. “No, I didn’t. It’s _obviously_ the fact that you’re a fantastic kisser-“

“Spare me,” Hina shuddered, and Katara burst out laughing.  
  
“I knew you’d hate that,” she cackled. “No, it’s actually his selflessness. What’d you put for me, babe?”

“’Babe’?” Hina looked even more disgusted. “You’re _that_ couple now?”

“Oh, shush,” Katara said, brushing the comment off with a dismissive hand-wave.

“You have to guess that first, Katara,” he reminded her.

“Oh, right. My eyes?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nope, your strength.” He ducked his fingers under her chin to raise her eyes to his. “I do like your eyes, though.”

“I thought Hina would’ve picked my…helpfulness? I don’t know, what _did_ you say?” Aang cut in after seeing the disgusted look on his partner’s face. She shot him a look of silent thanks.

“Your sense of humor,” she said, flushing. “I mean, not that you’re really all that funny, but you make…me…have fun, I guess?” She looked like she was about to combust. “Fun-loving…ness. There. That’s what I meant.”

  
“I had no idea,” Aang replied, rather pleased with himself. “What’d you pick?”

  
“My intelligence,” Hina said flatly. “Since that’s what everyone would pick.”

  
“I’m not everyone, Hina,” he told her, surprisingly tender for such mixed company. “That’s why my answer was your height.”

“My… _height?”_ Hina glowered. “I swear, little Avatar, if this is another short joke-“

“Wait, _little Avatar?”_ Katara grinned from ear to ear. “But he’s _taller_ than you!”

“ _See?”_ Aang cut in. “That’s what I’ve been telling her!”

  
“Taller in spirit, remember?” she smirked, finally letting down her guard.

“Okay, short stuff,” he teased. “But yeah, your height. That was what I put.”

“That’s just so _random,”_ Hina said to herself, playing with the tassels on the throw pillow next to her. “Just… _why?”_

“First of all, it’s easy joke material, which is important considering that I’m _not that funny,”_ he said, feigning offense while trying not to laugh. “But you can also squeeze into small spaces, which is useful-“

“But doesn’t explain why that was your favorite thing about me,” Hina pointed out. “I mean, I’m not anything special, but of everything you could possibly like about me, you pick the fact that I’m _short_?” she shrugged. “I guess it just doesn’t make any sense.”

“You fit under my chin,” he admitted, so quiet he was almost inaudible. Hina heard him, though, and her eyes widened.

_What’s_ that _supposed to mean?”_

“Oh,” she said softly. “I guess that makes a little bit more sense.”

Katara looked like she wanted to ask questions, but Zuko put a hand on her forearm to still her. “Looks like you guys are still winning,” he said. “Do you want to go a few more times?”

“Sure!” Katara agreed. “Hina, you pick the next one.”

“Um…” Hina wracked her brain. _I have to come up with something that’ll get back at those two for whatever it is they’re trying to pull,_ she thought. “Okay. What’s your partner’s favorite memory with you?”

They paused to think, but before they could reconvene, a commotion at the door distracted them from the game. A cacophony of voices that sounded like the guards at the door arguing with some newcomer rang out, and they all went still, silently glancing around at each other – _are you hearing this? –_ and then, in wordless agreement, walking as quietly as they could manage over to the door. Zuko had one arm protectively slung around Katara’s waist as they approached and, apprehensive, Aang reached out to grab Hina’s hand. She didn’t pull away, and that in and of itself let him know that she was as worried as he was.

“We can’t let anyone in, sir,” they could hear a guard telling someone once they had their ears pressed to the door. “Strict orders from the Fire Lord.”

“Tell him it’s Minister Rinata,” the newcomer said, his voice unmistakably panicked. “We have to get a message to him.”

“Sorry, Minister, but like I said, I’m under strict orders not to let _anyone_ in until the Fire Lord says we can.”

“But sir,” Minister Rinata begged. “I’m under lockdown orders, too, you know that. You and I both know that I wouldn’t be risking my life by coming here if there weren’t pressing matters to attend to.”

“How do I know that you’re not a body double or something shady like that?” the guard said, and Hina rolled her eyes.

“ _Sir._ I have to ask you one more time to _let me in.”_

With that, Zuko threw the door open. “Minister Rinata, do you need something?” he asked, releasing his arm from Katara’s waist and walking out to meet him. He narrowed his eyes when he saw the Foreign Minister’s pallid complexion and wild eyes. “Is everything all right?”

“Your Majesty, I think our lives might all be in danger,” he panted, his shoulders rising and falling with alarming speed. The guards parted to let Zuko and Hina leave the room but Aang and Katara hung back, watching the scene unfold with nervous glances at each other every few seconds.

“We knew that, but did something happen?” he asked.

“It’s Minister Guo,” he said, and Hina's stomach entered free-fall because she _knew_ what he was going to say. _She was second in line,_ Hina remembered, bile rising in her throat. 

"Yes?" Zuko prompted.

Minister Rinata swallowed hard. “She’s dead.”

Zuko and Hina exchanged a look of horror. "You know what this means, Zuko, right?" Hina asked gravely. Zuko just stared at her, too shocked to comprehend her meaning. 

"Zuko," she tried again. "They're here." She inhaled shakily. "This means that the Phoenix Society's gotten into the palace." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH NO ;)


	26. Doomsday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locked in, the remaining ministers tensely await news after learning that the Phoenix Society has infiltrated the palace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots going on in this one. We're really racing towards the finale here, and I really hope you guys are enjoying this wild ride with me. Only five chapters to go - can you believe that? Crazy.

Hina broke into a run the moment Minister Rinata’s words sank in, making for the servants’ quarters. She didn’t heed Zuko or Aang’s calls for her to hang back but after a moment, she heard the sound of heavy breathing and heavier footsteps falling into step alongside her. She slowed – she’d recognize the sound of those footsteps anywhere.

“Hina, wait,” Zuko panted, slowing down to match her pace. “You can’t just run off like that, unguarded. You said it yourself – the Phoenix Society is _in the palace._ And weren’t you their first target?”

“Yeah, and you know why it was Maiyin who was just found dead and not me?” she turned to look at him, her eyes steely.

“Because you were locked in a heavily-guarded room like we were _all_ supposed to be?” he asked. He didn’t seem fazed by the news, but Hina knew it was a façade; he’d be shaken to the bone that a close advisor had died on his watch when he’d had time to let the day’s events sink in.

“No, because I was with _you,”_ Hina said. “I mean, yes, the guards helped. But I think what really made the difference is that both Minister Katara and myself were with you, the one person the Phoenix Society doesn’t want to hurt.” She gulped. “And, therefore, the one person that they can’t afford to expose the identity of their agent in the palace to by killing a target where he might see it happen.” It was a little jarring how quickly that had occurred to her and she briefly wondered what that said about her, that she’d so rapidly be able to extrapolate the cause of an event with so little information. Right now, though, whatever the cause of her quick reasoning, she was grateful for it.

“What are you saying, Hina?” he asked. Now the expected desperation was starting to creep into his voice. 

“That that stupid game might’ve just saved my life,” she said. “And that you have immunity as long as they don’t plan to kill you, which you can give to them just by being there. So go back to the parlor, keep the Ministers there, order Minister Luong to go into lockdown with you, and don’t leave them.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said nervously. “But I might not be able to stay.”

“You’re the Fire Lord and there are enemy agents loose in the palace!” Hina snapped. “Do you _actually_ believe that anyone will be anything but relieved that you’re sheltering in place?”

  
He nodded. “All right, but be safe, Hina.” He reached out to lay his hand on her shoulder. “We can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” she said. “That’s a promise, Fire Lord.”

With a regretful look back at her, Zuko turned back to the parlor, and Hina picked up her pace again. She knew exactly where she needed to go.

* * *

“Agent Yang, what do you have to say for-“ Hina’s words died in her throat when she flung open the door to Shuran’s room in the servants’ wing.

The defector lay sprawled across the bed, unmoving. Her plain white bedspread was stained red and a note lay on her chest.

  
Eyes wide, Hina rushed to the bed, picked up the note, and tried to ignore the bile rising in her throat as she retreated to the door – as far away from Shuran’s lifeless corpse as she could get – to read. Its writer’s spidery penmanship gave it an otherworldly quality and she almost didn’t recognize the script it was written in, though a moment returned the letters to her memory. _Old Gaoling._ She remembered her mother teaching her to read the archaic script of the Earth Kingdom’s most ancient language even as she insisted she’d never need it, and its letters came back to her as she deciphered the note.

“Spymistress,” she read its opening, her ears ringing as blood rushed to her head. “Such is the fate of traitors. Until balance is restored, none are safe.”

She sank against the door, her heart pounding. _Someone wants me dead,_ she realized with a pang of terror that she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in all the days that she’d known about this.

And then a survival instinct that crowded out all else in her mind took over and she was running for dear life – _literally,_ she thought, and the irony would’ve struck her at any other time – back down the halls, wondering why she’d ever been foolish enough to put herself in such an isolated part of the palace at a time like this. Her footsteps echoed thorough the corridors as her shoes slapped against the hardwood and she knew they were a clue to her location that she couldn’t afford to give away, but safety was what mattered. She had to get back to the parlor.

* * *

Zuko had scarcely made it halfway back to the parlor when a Fire Sage came running, frantically flagging him down. “Your Majesty, we are about to prepare the Minister’s body,” he panted, bowing as quickly as he could for formality’s sake. “You know that you must be present for the ritual. Please follow me to the shrine so that we can-“

“I apologize, but I can’t,” Zuko interrupted him curtly as he walked. The Sage sped up, too, to keep in step with him. “My priority right now has to be the safety of my remaining Ministers, and Spymistress Oyama thinks they’re safer if I’m there, so I have to stay with them. I’m sorry, but the ritual has to wait.” 

“But Lord Zuko, you must understand the importance of this ritual being completed promptly!”

“I do, but if you don’t want to be performing that ritual five times” – he shuddered at his own words – “you need to let me see to the safety of my cabinet.”

The Sage looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t, and, with a bow that was barely more than a head-bob, he said, “very well, Your Majesty,” and departed. Then he picked up running again.

He could only pray they’d be safe – and that Hina was right about him.

* * *

For the first few fraught moments after they’d been locked into the parlor, no one had said a word, nor even looked at each other; it was all they could do to maintain any composure at all as they sat around awaiting news. Aang reached over to squeeze Katara’s hand a few times and she did the same, knowing it took every ounce of self-control he had not to run after Hina and beg her to stay safe but otherwise, they didn’t move. Even when Minister Luong was unceremoniously shoved through the doors, blustering and cursing and demanding he be released, no one reacted to his presence.

Then Katara couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Minister Rinata?” she asked, glancing up at her colleague. He was still white as a sheet, but at least he met her eyes.

“Yes, Minister Katara?” he asked her, his voice as wan as his complexion. Minister Rinata was old enough to be greying and young enough to have a modicum of fear left in him when faced with death, reed-thin and bookish; it was rather amazing that he’d proven as effective a negotiator as he had when everything about his appearance would seem to indicate a man with none of the resolve his job demanded. But that resolve, evidently, had disappeared now.

“Are you all right?” Katara asked, though she already knew the answer. He’d been met with the shock of a lifetime at least four times this week; for a man whose temperament was already nervous, it was amazing that he hadn’t snapped under the strain of so much turmoil this week.

“Yes, just fine, Minister Katara,” he said tightly. “And you?”

“Not really, if I’m being honest,” Katara sighed. “Shuran’s information didn’t have anything to do with me, so I don’t know what to expect, and now that Maiyin’s been killed…” she sighed. “I’m worried, that’s all.”

“We all are, Katara,” he responded, dropping the title once he realized that nothing about this conversation would follow the protocol he loved so dearly. “I knew there was a risk, but…”

“We didn’t really take it seriously until it _happened,”_ Katara finished, wringing her hands in the fabric of her dress.

  
“That exactly,” Minister Rinata sighed. “We never think death can touch us until we feel the grip of its icy fingers.”

Katara paused for a moment, taken aback. “That was…poetic,” she said slowly, unsure how to respond. She’d known Minister Rinata to be eccentric, but she tended to let it slip her mind.

“I do tend to get that way when I’m under duress,” he sighed. “I wanted to be a writer when I was growing up, so the beauty of words has always been a comfort to me.”

“I’m glad you have that.” She smiled tightly. “Do you regret it, not doing that?”

“What, writing?” Minister Rinata paused to consider the question. “No, not often. But sometimes it’s easy to think about what might have been.”

“I know that feeling,” she said softly, glancing up at the corner of the ceiling just so she’d have something, _anything,_ to look at. “I mean, the feeling of thinking about the what-if.”

  
“Is there anything you regret, Katara?” he asked.

“Hm.” She grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest. “Well, if anything happened, I’d regret not having seen my family in so long,” she admitted. “And…” she didn’t know if she should be so open with a colleague, but she went ahead. “That I waited so long to tell Zuko how I felt about him.”

Minister Rinata’s face brightened. “Oh, I had forgotten,” he said, a little less tense. “You and the Fire Lord are…involved.”

She flushed. “You make it sound so scandalous,” she muttered. “But yes. We’re courting.”

“Congratulations, Katara,” he said, and she believed he meant it. “I’d wondered how long it would take you, myself.”

“You have?” Katara hadn’t been aware that anyone else even cared, save for the Council, perhaps. “When?”

Minister Rinata smiled knowingly. “Since you were appointed. It was hard to miss the way he looked at you.”

“Oh.” A stiff blush colored Katara’s cheeks. “Was it that obvious?”

Minister Rinata laughed. “Plain as day, my dear.” His face turned serious then. “Are you happy, Katara?”

  
“With Zuko?” she self-consciously pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Yes, um. Of course I am.”

“And is he happy?”

“I hope he is,” she replied. “He deserves to be.”

“Then take it from an old man,” he said, “and never let him go.”

“I don’t intend to, Minister Rinata,” she said. “No regrets, right?”

He smiled. “No regrets.”

They lapsed into silence again and a few moments later, Zuko threw the doors to the parlor open again, wasting no time in making his way to the loveseat where Katara sat and kneeling in front of her, panting and wide-eyed. “Are you all right?” he asked, taking her hands and stroking rapid circles along the backs of them with his thumbs.

“I’m fine, Zuko,” she said, resting her forehead against his. _No regrets,_ she reminded herself. Decorum and protocol had a time and a place to be observed, but this – this prison in which they awaited life-or-death news – was neither. Besides, something sang in her heart at the way _she_ had been his priority even though they were all in danger. He’d rushed to _her_ side, and he didn’t care who knew that nothing mattered more to him than her in the tensest of moments.

And she loved him endlessly for it.

“I love you so much,” she murmured, because she knew she’d regret it if she didn’t. Minister Rinata smiled and Minister Luong tactfully pretended he hadn’t seen them.

“I love you too, Katara,” he told her. “Hina thinks that they won’t attack when I’m with you because they intend to keep me alive and I can’t see who the killer is, so I’m going to stay with you all.”

“For the rest of the day?” Katara asked, her breath catching.

“For as long as I need to, my love,” he told her, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to her lips. Minister Luong cleared his throat.

“Lord Zuko, what exactly is going on?” Minister Luong asked, clearly done ignoring their protocol-smashing moment of consolation.

Zuko sighed and began to explain again, only to be interrupted when the doors flew open again and Hina shoved her way past the guards, frantic and short of breath.

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” she panted. “Shuran’s dead too.”

* * *

Hina needed a moment.

She’d prided herself on this for so long: a cool head under pressure, an inability to be fazed by anything, instincts that rarely served her wrong, a quick brain and an ability to read people like a book that made her as qualified a candidate for her position as one could ever hope to find. But right now – after a week of knowing a knife hung over her head, after the news that the Phoenix Society had infiltrated the palace, after the shock of finding one of the few people who could’ve helped them dead in her own bedroom and having to explain it all to three frantic ministers and an even more frantic Fire Lord – she couldn’t take it anymore.

She almost wondered why. After all, the palace was locked down, the guards were searching for any possible intruders at breakneck pace, and her part of this job was over; there was nothing she _could_ do at this point. She was as safe as she could be under the circumstances, and her work was done, but her heart still kicked frantically at her chest and refused to slow down. So she retreated into a corner and left the group squabbling over the note she’d found on Shuran’s body, hoping they’d be distracted enough to let her regroup.

One of them noticed, though.

“Hey,” Aang said in greeting, jolting Hina out of her panic-induced stupor. His voice was soft, his expression understanding, and the awkwardness of their earlier interactions seemed to melt away in the heat of the moment.

  
She thought she’d never seen a more welcome sight, and in this moment, she could admit that to herself.

“Hey,” she replied, weakly raising her hand in reply, and in that single gesture, Aang knew exactly what she needed. He opened his arms and she gratefully slumped into them, resting her head against his chest and feeling the insistent thump of his heartbeat; it was as fast as hers, she realized, and that was somehow comforting. “We’re going to be okay,” she murmured into his tunic, not knowing where the words had come from but nonetheless feeling that she should say them.

“We are,” Aang agreed. “You did everything you could. Now we just have to stay safe.”

He didn’t make promises, and she was grateful for it. “Right,” she said. “They wouldn’t attack us in front of Zuko and risk exposing themselves.” Then they were silent for a moment as they held each other tight against the uncertainty of the moment and the fear of its resolution. And Hina never would’ve admitted it at a normal moment, but it felt _right._ It was almost startling how right it felt, but she fit into him perfectly, and the scent of Appa and jasmine in his clothes had become a comfort in the months they’d spent together.

She realized with stunned silence that she, a girl who’d long ago learned never to cling to anything, didn’t _want_ to let go of him.

“How long do you think we’re going to be in here?” she asked, because her thoughts were getting too loud and too honest to be dealt with and she had to break them up with _something._ “I mean…we don’t know, but make your best guess.”

“Two hours?” Aang offered optimistically. “The guards know what they’re doing. I’m sure they’ll find whoever’s responsible as quickly as possible, and then we’ll be able to go.”

“I hope so,” she said. “They’re bringing us food in a few minutes, but I don’t want to be in here all day.”

“Can I say something I probably shouldn’t that I know you’re going to hate?”

Hina’s cheeks flushed and she was privately glad that Aang couldn’t see her face. “Go for it.”

“I’m actually going to be kind of sad when this is all over,” he admitted. “Of course, I want you and Zuko and Katara and everyone to be safe. More than almost anything. But…once there’s no more conspiracy to bust up, I won’t have an excuse to stay here any longer.”

“Oh.” To Hina’s surprise, her stomach dropped at the idea of it, working without a partner for the first time in almost a year. “I hadn’t even thought about that.”

“I don’t want to leave you, Hina.” He held her a little tighter as he said that, and her heart skipped a beat before she could will it to _do its job properly, thankyouverymuch_. “I want this to be over, but I don’t want to leave you.”

“You’ve only known me for six months, Aang,” she teased, hoping to diffuse the situation. “I think you’ll be okay without me.”

“Almost a year,” he corrected. “And you’re going to be pretty hard to forget, short stuff.”

“Oh, stop it,” she said, her face burning as the door swung open again and she finally let him go. “I think that’s the food.”

Sure enough, a few servants entered as Hina and Aang rejoined the group, carrying trays of soup and bread that, though simple, looked heavenly after the day they’d had. Minister Luong was already slurping his soup greedily by the time the two had taken their former seats on the couch again. The rest of the group stirred at the soup, which was too hot to eat though they were all hungry for it. “Looks good!” Katara said cheerily, trying too hard to brighten up a dreary moment.

  
“It does,” Aang agreed, no doubt trying to do the same. “It-“

Whatever he was saying, he never finished, interrupted by the sound of a porcelain soup tureen shattering against the hardwood floor as Minister Luong fell forewords into the table, clutching his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I NEED TO STOP. I HAVE A CLIFFHANGER PROBLEM.


	27. Doomsday, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minister Luong's poisoning throws the team for a loop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really had no idea what to write for this even though I knew what had to happen. Sorry, guys...ch. 27 and 28 are probably going to be slightly lackluster because ch. 29-31 are the ones I'm really excited to get off the ground. But I tried...?

“Minister Luong, is everything all right?” Hina asked, though she knew it was a silly question to ask when the man was _choking,_ as the Minister of War fought for his breath. Katara was a beat behind in responding but infinitely more effective, immediately drawing the water from her waterskin and running it across his throat and chest without saying a word.

“Poison,” she concluded, her face and voice betraying little emotion, as she moved the water across his struggling lungs. “It’s fast-acting. His throat is constricted.” She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating, but a frustrated pinch in her expression made it clear that it wasn’t effortless.

“Can you do anything?” Minister Rinata was perhaps the only person in the group who’d deigned to panic an appropriate amount. “Didn’t you save Zuko when he was poisoned?”

“Yes, because that toxin took” – she paused, visibly straining as she tried to pull the poison from his blood as she had when she’d healed Zuko – “twenty-four hours to cause paralysis and death. This one” – again, she stopped, extracting only a few drops of the toxin from his blood and grunting in frustration – “only took seconds to kick in.”

The room fell silent as she worked, desperately pulling at the traces of the toxin she could still feel in the man’s bloodstream. It hadn’t been a large dose, but it had evidently been thoroughly mixed into the food, for it had dispersed widely. Besides, as she was finding, the dose the assassin had delivered had been remarkably small. It was those comforting facts that Katara chose to fixate on; they grounded her in the moment, let her focus on the life she needed to save instead of the ones that might be lost if they didn’t find the assassin.

As she worked, Katara was dimly aware of Zuko’s voice in the background, ordering the servants who’d brought the food to take it away before anyone else could ingest the poison, and of Hina, insisting that the guards concentrate their search on the kitchen staff and anyone who’d been in the area when the food was prepared. But her mind was wholly tuned into the man whose rapidly-dimming life she was trying to restoke, and with sweat beading on her brow and a lack of emotion that shocked even herself, Katara bent the last of the toxin from his blood and said, “done.”

“Oh, thank Agni,” Minister Rinata murmured. “If you hadn’t been here…”

  
She ignored him, adrenaline pulsing through her veins. “The effects that the poison had on Minister Luong might not disappear even though there’s no more of it in his system,” she told them. “I’m not sure what it _was,_ but I doubt he’ll recover too quickly, given how fast-acting it was.”

“But he’ll live?” Zuko asked, peering down at his Minister, still crumpled on the floor. Hina, at very least, had the dignity to recover from the shock long enough to heave the unconscious Minister of War up from the ground, and Aang quickly caught on, helping her settle him across the majority of the loveseat they’d once occupied.

“I think so,” Katara said. “Though I can’t speak to the condition he’ll be in when he wakes up.”

“Now that he’s stable, we need a better plan,” Hina cut in. “Clearly, the lockdown didn’t work if someone was able to get poison in our food. It could’ve been anyone in the kitchens, or someone who handled the food on the way here, and we don’t know who. And given where and how Agent Yang and Minister Guo were found, it seems unlikely that these were all the work of the same person, so-“

“You think there are multiple assassins?” Zuko interrupted, and Katara, still too exhausted and hopped-up on the adrenaline of the moment to be affected, automatically took his hand.

“I’m saying it’s possible,” Hina sighed. “And the more I think about it-“

“It’s been _five minutes_ since Minister Luong was poisoned, Spymistress Oyama,” Minister Rinata pointed out. “How could you have possibly thought about it in this much detail?”

“It’s my job to think quickly in crises, Haruki,” she said, crossing her arms. “Anyways. The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t?”

“The way he was poisoned,” Hina clarified. “Think about it. No one handed us the soup bowls – we chose them ourselves. So no one could have known or planned which bowl Minister Luong would take. And that seems to imply that they didn’t _care_ who took which.”

“Maybe they only wanted to get one of us and didn’t care who it was,” Katara offered, but even she didn’t look like she believed that.

“I don’t think so.” Hina shook her head. “Given the circumstances, I think it’s far more likely that _all_ of the bowls were poisoned.”

“ _All_ of-“ Zuko’s eyes widened in horror. “But I thought you said they wanted to keep me alive!”

“That’s what Shuran told us, but we can’t know how accurate that is.” Hina shrugged helplessly. “It’s obvious that if they were clever enough to infiltrate the palace, nothing they’re doing isn’t by design. And that implies that poisoning all five of us was a risk they were willing to take.”

“It makes sense,” Katara cut in. “If they’d wanted to make sure they only killed Minister Luong, they’d have handed him the bowl with the poison in it and given everyone else normal soup. But they _didn’t.” s_

“Exactly,” Hina said, nodding gravely.

“So what now?” Aang asked, speaking up for the first time since the Minister’s brush with death. The five of them looked to each other – the Avatar to the Spymistress, the Foreign Minister to the Waterbender, and the Fire Lord to them all – and for a moment, none of them said a word.

Then Katara spoke up.

“Even if it didn’t stop them from making another attempt, our being together saved Minister Luong’s life,” she started. “So I think it’s our best plan at the moment. We stick together, and we don’t let anyone in or out of this room. If anything happens, I can heal whoever’s hurt. Zuko still stays to act as a buffer, even if we’re not sure that they aren’t after him. We just buckle down and let the guards and the rest of the agents who work under Hina oversee the search.” She glanced at Hina, who looked apprehensive. “I know it’s going to be difficult for you not to be able to oversee this yourself, but they’re qualified, Hina,” she said. “And without you, the intelligence department would be in shambles. We have to keep you safe.”

“That sounds like a solid plan,” Zuko agreed. “We hold down the fort as long as we need to, and we wait for the intruder – or intruders, I guess – to be found. Everyone in agreement?” They glanced around at each other and all nodded. He and Katara exchanged a look, a nod, and another hand-squeeze, a united front. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Truthfully, there was little else to do, but it was comforting, as four out of the group of five dedicatedly went on numbly pretending that nothing at all strange had happened, to feel as if they had a plan.

* * *

Night fell well before they had any more news of the search for the Phoenix Society agents.

“I think we’re going to have to spend the night here,” Hina said once she realized, looking up at the high window that provided the room with its only source of light, that the sun had set. She glanced around the room, appraising its available furniture: the loveseat she, Aang, and the still-unconscious Minister Luong shared; the armchair that Katara and Zuko sat in; a matching one that Minister Luong occupied; and one last seat at the other end of the low coffee table that no one was in. “I’ll take the floor.”

“You don’t have to, Hina. I’m fine with the floor,” Aang said. “Minister Luong needs this sofa more than I do.”

“Fine, then Aang and I will _both_ take the floor.” She glared at him, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of going along with it.

“I’ll stay where I am,” Minister Rinata said, but his words were lost in the shuffle as, in a stroke of inspiration, Hina picked up Minister Luong by the arms and dragged him over to the unoccupied chair.

“There,” she said. “Now someone can have the loveseat to stretch out.”

“You and Aang should take it. There’s really no need for you to sleep on the floor,” Katara protested. “Then Zuko and I can stay here.”

“But you’re never going to be able to get any sleep scrunched up like that,” Hina pointed out. “One of you needs to take the loveseat. And it’s fine. The carpet’s soft.”

“Really soft,” Aang added unhelpfully.

“Fine, then. Zuko can have the loveseat,” Katara sighed. “I can’t believe we all could die at any minute and we’re arguing about _furniture.”_

“Sleep is vital to our _literal survival_!” Hina threw up her hands. “We have to make sure everyone is able to rest or we won’t be able to put up much of a fight if it comes to that.”

“No one’s fighting anyone, Hina,” Zuko sighed. “But really, Katara, you can have it. I’m-“

“Taller than me.” She looked at him pleadingly. “Please, Zuko. You’ll sleep better if you have enough room.” He huffed, but he didn’t say anything, which Katara counted as a win.

“So, um. We don’t have blankets or anything, but you can sleep if you want?” Hina shrugged. After the events of the day, she was too tired to even pretend to be eloquent. “We all need it, and I’m sure the guards will wake us if there’s anything to wake up for.”

“I’ll turn in,” Aang volunteered, taking a throw pillow from the sofa and making his way over to the carpeted corner where he and Hina would be spending the night. Hina quickly followed and, as he settled in, Aang shed his cloak and offered her a corner of it as he spread it out like a blanket over them. She was too exhausted to think too much about it and gladly accepted, tucking the end under her shoulder and drifting off faster than she had in years. Soon the room was silent: Minister Rinata had taken virtually no time at all to fall asleep, and Katara and Zuko, awake but not for long, glanced across the table at each other – he on the loveseat, she in the armchair – without saying a word.

He patted the fabric of the cushion – _join me_ – and she was all too happy to oblige, silently stepping over the table and pressing herself as close as she could to him so they wouldn’t fall. He slung his arm across her waist to hold her in the sliver of space between his body and the edge of the loveseat, and, as her breathing slowed, he nuzzled against her hair and tried to drift off. But he quickly found that he couldn’t.

_I was so close to losing you,_ he thought, the weight of his reality sinking in fully for the first time that day. _If Minister Luong hadn’t been the first to eat that soup, I don’t know what I would’ve done._ As he gently untangled the knots that had accumulated in her hair, the triumph of her speech to the council and the lighthearted fun of the afternoon seemed like they’d happened years earlier instead of mere hours ago. Zuko had always known that, born into this family as he was, danger would follow him his whole life, but he’d never considered _this_ horrifying extension of that reality – that no one he loved or valued or even so much as worked with would ever truly be safe, either. He and Katara and Aang and Hina had all been spared by chance but it easily could’ve been _any_ of them who was first to ingest the poison, and he realized with a shudder that he didn’t know what he’d do without any of them – if he could never take lunch and insults with Hina or consult with her on matters of state again, if he never got another chance to help Aang rebuild a broken world, if he was never given the chance to feel Katara in his arms again or cry in hers when the hurt was too deep for him to entrust to anyone else. He needed these people, he realized, and he needed his mother and Uncle Iroh and Toph and Sokka and Suki, and he didn’t know what he’d do without them.

And _none_ of them would ever be safe so long as they loved him. 

Head too full to think, he watched the rise and fall of Katara’s shoulders, the way the moonlight filtering in from the window above them cast a clear, lovely sheen over her sleeping face, and pressed his lips to her forehead. _Agni,_ he loved her, and he never wanted to stop. But the guard who’d been chosen to keep the keys to the room chose to open the door.

“They’ve apprehend the man responsible for the poisoned soup, Your Majesty,” he said without much concern for the fact that everyone in the room was sleeping. Katara jolted awake in his arms and, though she tried to sit up, didn’t move.

“Oh, thank Agni.” Behind him, he could hear Aang and Hina stir. “Do we know that he’s the only assassin?”

  
“No, Your Majesty.” The guard shook his head. “They’re still searching. The first agent said there’s three and gave them all the information they’ll need to find them, but we haven’t yet.”

  
“So can we leave…?” Katara asked groggily.

He nodded and, sleep forgotten, the five of them bolted from the room like it were on fire.

* * *

Zuko jolted awake to a knock at his door, immediately on high alert. _It must be news,_ he thought, throwing on a robe and stumbling half-asleep to the door expecting a guard or staff member to be waiting outside. But instead he found Katara, bleary-eyed and dressed in a blue nightshirt.

“Katara? Is everything all right?”

“I can’t sleep,” she admitted, stepping into his room without asking. “Can I stay here tonight?”

His heart caught in his throat before it melted completely and all he could do was nod mutely. “Okay,” he said. “Yeah. You can stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That sounds like a smut setup. It is not a smut setup.


	28. Somewhere in the Middle of the Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Katara have a tender moment in the wake of some long-awaited good news; Minister Guo's funeral is held.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE ALMOST DONE! This chapter is meant to resolve all of the subplots so that we can get to the moments you've all been waiting for in the next three chapters. I cannot WAIT to share those with you!

They didn’t speak for a few moments after Katara climbed into the sheets beside Zuko, curling into his side and resting her head against his chest as if it were the natural order of the universe for them to find themselves here. (Letting the steady, reliable, _unchanging_ rise and fall of his chest console her where words had been unable to, Katara thought it probably was.) But there was too much to say to let even the novelty of this position – sharing a bed, of which the very notion was new – keep them quiet for long.

“I can’t stop thinking about that soup,” Katara spoke up after a moment, shifting to circle her arms around his shoulders.

“I can’t either,” Zuko replied, gently brushing a few locks of her hair off of the ticklish spot at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “It could have been any of us.”

“I haven’t exactly told anyone this, but I can’t stand Minister Luong.” Katara sighed heavily. “But after today, I couldn’t be more grateful for him.”

  
“None of us like him, so you’re not alone in that, and I agree,” Zuko said. “If it hadn’t been for his impatience to get at that soup…”

Neither of them wanted to finish that sentence.

“Yeah,” Katara finally said after a pause. “I could’ve healed any of you guys if you’d been the one to get poisoned, but if it had been me, I’d have just been out of luck.”

Zuko held her tighter. “But it wasn’t you,” he said, as if he had to convince her of this. “It _wasn’t.”_

“Hey, it’s all right now,” she tried to reassure him, pressing herself closer as if to prove that she was real and solid and alive. “I’m okay. We’re okay.”

“But you might not have been, Katara,” he rasped, his voice growing weaker. “And if anything had happened to you or Hina or Aang like that – _in front of me,_ after I’d done everything I could to keep you safe…”

“I know, love,” she said with a soft kiss to his temple. “But you didn’t.”

“But I _wouldn’t_ have, if Luong hadn’t-“

“You’re not the only one who’s upset about this,” Katara interrupted, hurt and exasperation flitting across her face. “Don’t you think I’d have felt just as responsible as you if anything happened to you or Aang?” she paused, then, realizing it was rather gauche to imply that she hadn’t cared whether the remaining two in the room lived or died, she amended the statement. “Or Hina or Haruki?”

“I know I’m not,” he acknowledged. “But at least there was something you could actually _do_ about it. You helped protect them. I couldn’t do anything.”

“Oh, Zuko,” Katara sighed, laying her cheek against his chest. “Is that why you’re so upset?”

“I’m the _Fire Lord,_ Katara.” His voice almost broke with emotion. “It’s my sworn duty to protect my people, and if I can’t even keep someone from very nearly killing my entire cabinet, the Avatar, and myself – not to mention the _love of my life –_ with _one_ tray of soup, what use am I?” His skin grew hotter against hers as his frustration mounted. “I’m _useless,_ Katara. Since I became Fire Lord, I’ve done nothing but blunder and nearly get myself and everyone I love killed, and now _this?”_

“Zuko!” Katara sounded far more horrified than Zuko thought the moment deserved. “Do you really think that?”

“It’s _true,”_ he said, pressing his face into her hair. It was damp with tears within a moment but she couldn’t find it within herself to care. “I’m not good at this job, Katara.”

She tried a gentler approach, since the last one hadn’t worked. “No, it’s not,” she said, soothingly stroking the too-warm skin of his arms. “You’ve been Fire Lord for three years. In that time, you _ended a war,_ freed your country’s colonies, restored relations with the Earth Kingdom _and_ the Water Tribes, reformed your entire cabinet to put people who’d make real change in power, fought to push a revolutionary healthcare reform bill through the Council...that’s just the tip of the iceberg. You’ve done _so much.”_

“But it’s not enough,” he said hoarsely.

“It is for now,” she said. “You have a whole lifetime to keep working at it. And you have people in your corner who are going to help you do it. And…” she trailed off hesitantly.

“Yes?” he prompted, absentmindedly playing with her hair.

“You have me,” she told him. “You’ll always have me.”

“Always is a lot to promise, Katara,” Zuko cautioned, but the way his breath caught in his throat made it all too clear how he felt.

Katara kissed his scarred cheek, her touch so light it was barely there. “No, but we have a whole lifetime to keep working at that, too.”

He fell silent after that, breaking it a moment later. “Katara?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna know what the best thing I’ve done in all this time has been?” he asked, an effortless smile playing at his lips.

“Are you going to say something unbearably sappy again?” she asked, and he could hear the eye-roll in her voice.

“Yes,” he said, his breath ghosting her ear as he leaned in. “Would you let me?”

“I’ll allow it,” she said mock-grudgingly. “Just this once.”

“Okay, let me start again, I lost my segue there.” He cleared his throat. “You wanna know the best thing I’ve done since I got this Agni-forsaken job?”

“Yes, Fire Lord, I do.”

“Finding a way to get you to come back to me,” he said, and though Katara rolled her eyes and called him an incurable sap, she couldn’t help but think of what he’d said as she drifted off, his warmth and her exhaustion slowly pulling her into sleep.

It was true, she decided. Wars and empires and armies and agreements seemed to matter little when compared to that one simple reality: that somewhere in the middle of the mess they’d inherited, they’d found each other.

That was the moment Katara made up her mind.

* * *

Zuko had been up since sunrise, simply watching as the sun lit on Katara’s hair like a halo as it rose in the east; she’d moved in the middle of the night but still stuck close to him, and he’d awoken to find himself curled around her.

(His heart had melted and he’d thought about forever for a little longer than he should’ve, but it was a much-needed reminder of the beauty to be found in the midst of disaster.)

Thus, he wasn’t woken up when he heard the knock at his door, but nevertheless, he did not particularly appreciate it or its untimely interruption of his early morning Katara-admiration session. “Yes?” he called groggily, getting up to get the door before Katara could stir. He’d have let whoever it was come inside, but, since he knew that most of the palace staff would get _certain ideas_ if they entered to see him sharing sheets with one of his advisors, Zuko thought it prudent to get the door himself. A young woman he recognized as one of the intelligence agents – _Agent Cheng, maybe? I can’t remember –_ Hina had hired a few months back was waiting for him when he opened it.

“Your Majesty, we’ve apprehended the Phoenix Society agents,” she told him. “They’re in custody. Because of that, we got the go-ahead to hold Minister Guo’s funeral, so that’ll be in a few hours.”

“Oh, thank Agni,” Zuko muttered under his breath. “Thank you, Agent…Cheng?”  
  
The woman nodded. “Yes, I’m Agent Cheng. And we also wanted to inform you that they’ve given us information as to the whereabouts of the Phoenix Society’s leaders and the locations of their bases of operations.”

  
“Are your agents pursuing that information?” he asked, relief flooding over him. _They could end this._ “Searching for these people? Anything?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Agent Cheng said. “But we need your express permission to launch a full-scale investigation, and to shut down the group if we have the chance to.”

“You have my permission, then,” Zuko told her. “By any means necessary.”

With that, Agent Cheng had heard all she needed to hear; she bowed and was off, no doubt to give her fellow agents the order to pursue the investigation. With a long sigh of relief, Zuko shut the door and made his way back to bed.

“G’morning,” Katara mumbled when she felt his weight settling into the mattress. “Wha’ was that?”

“They found the Phoenix Society agents.” He kissed her forehead, going back in for a proper kiss when he realized how cursory his first one had been. “One of the intelligence people was just asking if they could follow up on some information they got about the Society’s leaders from the agents they captured.”

“Oh, good,” Katara yawned. She met his eyes after that and her sleepy smile, Zuko swore, would be his absolute _undoing._ “Thanks for letting me sleep in here.”

“of course, love.” He didn’t think it prudent to point out that he’d slept better like this than he would’ve alone. “Any time.”

“People would talk,” she mumbled, burying her face in the crook of his neck with a smile so wide it couldn’t help but be contagious.

“And we won’t listen,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her and holding on as if she’d slip away.

“But you have your honor to look out for,” she teased, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder.

“I also have _you_ to look out for,” he countered, his own grin spreading. _I can’t believe this is real. I can’t believe this is my_ life. _I can’t believe she’s-_

“I can take care of myself, Zuko,” she shot back, effortlessly slipping into the familiar back-and-forth of their banter.

“But you shouldn’t always have to,” he said.

“Mm, true.” She flung her arm across his torso for no apparent reason and giggled when her hand flop against the sheets, a gesture Zuko found to be as inexplicable as it was _heart-meltingly adorable._ He grabbed said hand and playfully pressed his lips to its back. “I do like it when you do that,” she said, still giggling. He’d never heard her giggle this much but if this was how she always woke up…

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, taking the hand he’d grabbed and setting it against his pulse point. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d thought to do that, but the way her cheeks flushed when she felt how his heart was racing, knowing _she_ was the cause, made him glad that he had.

  
“You can ask me anything, Zuko,” she told him. “You know that.”

“Okay.” He caught her eyes. “Are you happy, Katara?”

“Happy how?” she asked. “With you? With my job? In the Fire Nation?”

“No, just…now, in this moment. Are you happy?”

Katara’s eyes didn’t waver from his, nor did her ear-to-ear smile fade even slightly. “I am, Zuko,” she said, pressing her cool palm flat against the flushed skin of the star-shaped scar on his abdomen. The implications of that choice weren’t lost on Zuko, whose heart flipped in his chest.

  
“How happy?” he asked, stroking a lock of hair from her face.

“ _Deliriously.”_

“And here I was thinking I was supposed to be the sappy one,” he murmured, pressing his lips to hers. It was as sweet a kiss as they’d ever shared in spite of their position; there was no hunger in it. This kiss was relief, contentment, all the soft and gentle feelings that the bitterness of the past days had made so obvious once they arrived. _Without days of bitter hardship, how would we know the sweetness of relief?_ Iroh had once told him, and though he’d brushed it off as another of Uncle’s eccentric sayings at the time, he thought he understood now. A kiss given on the heels of near-death really _was_ different, more and less urgent all at once.

Though it was hardly their first or most passionate, that kiss felt exactly like the release he’d needed for so long.

* * *

The relief of the morning wasn't fated to live long, though. And it faded the moment Zuko, flanked by his three remaining ministers and a few other officials who’d thought it best to be present, set foot in the Royal Shrine that afternoon for the burial rites of their colleague and the defector whose information had quite probably saved them all.

Privately, Zuko had always been a little afraid of this part of the palace. With its scale, the way it always seemed so shrouded in mystery, the ever-present smell of incense that lingered in his clothes for weeks after every visit, the Royal Shrine had always felt like a sanctuary that not even he had a right to enter. Call it intimidation or a healthy reverence for his nation’s faith and traditions; regardless, Zuko had hated the shrine as a child and still wasn’t its biggest fan today. Today, though, he couldn’t afford to let that show as the small group gathered to inter Maiying Guo and Shuran Yang shuffled into rows and took seats at white cushions on the floor.

There were six to Zuko’s row, all wearing nearly-identical white funeral robes thrown together in a hurry: Zuko himself at the right end, Minister Rinata next over, Katara next to him, Hina fourth in line, Aang next to Hina, and his mother – who’d not needed to be involved but had chosen to be anyway – at the left. All were somber; they’d been relieved beyond belief when they’d gotten the news that the palace had been purged of Phoenix Society moles, but it was hard not to remember the danger they’d been in even now. He’d be willing to bet that was _all_ anyone could think about as the Fire Sages droned on, chanting rituals in an ancient language that Zuko had learned but never practiced enough to fully understand when it was spoken like this. Minister Rinata, ever the eccentric, reached over to take his hand, and he guessed from the uncomfortable expression on Katara’s face that he’d done the same on his other side.

_(Not the time,_ he wanted to say, but he had to admit – grudgingly – that if ever there were a time at which his Foreign Minister’s eccentric affection was appropriate, this would be it. So he let Haruki hold his hand until it grew so sweaty that he feared they’d be stuck together.)

As the Sages finished the pre-burial rites, Zuko’s mind began to wander and once again, he couldn’t help but wonder if, somehow, this had been his fault. If he’d been more diligent, more decisive, less trusting-

But there was simply no _reason_ to blame himself, he realized. Not even the most qualified Spymistress he could imagine had harbored the slightest suspicion that the Phoenix Society might’ve infiltrated the palace when they’d received the first reports of unrest (which, he was now fairly certain, had been an elaborate diversion), and there was nothing he could have done.

_Nothing I could have done,_ Zuko realized. Something told him not to forget it and the words rang in his mind as they made the trek to the graveyard, Katara and Aang each holding one of his hands. _Nothing. Nothing. Nothing I could’ve done._

It was almost a relief.


	29. Onwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hina and Aang part ways; Katara comes to an important decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE ALMOST THERE! We've just got a wedding and an epilogue after this...so just sit back, relax, and enjoy some hard-earned fluff!

“I knew I’d find you out here.”

Hina looked up, her shoulder brushing a stray branch as she turned at the sound of Aang’s voice. “Well, this is where I usually am,” she said drily, glancing down into the ill-kempt fountain in the middle of the garden. Its water was tepid and the surface was covered in leaves and debris that had drifted in on the wind, but it was enough of a distraction for her. “How are you holding up?”

“All right.” Aang took a seat beside her on the stone bench, smoothing his white funeral robes over his knees. He was taller than the average Fire National, so the robes that the servants assigned to the job had found for him – simple, loose white wraparound robes, tied at the waist with rope – were a little too short. “I’m not really even sure if it’s hit me yet. This entire week has just been so crazy, and yesterday…”

“Yeah,” Hina said softly, turning the knotted end of her cincture in her hands. “I’m used to processing things quickly, but it’s still a lot.”

“I just feel so bad for Minister Guo,” Aang said, leaning back against the vine-covered backrest of the bench. “All of the other ministers at least had a chance to stay safe, but they got to her before anyone even knew they were coming.”

“And Shuran,” Hina added, staring down into the fountain again.

“Yeah, her too.” Aang sighed, then he stilled, turning to Hina with what looked like realization on his face. “Wait, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you call her by her first name…”

“She deserves that much respect,” Hina said. “I didn’t like her, but she risked her life to get us the information we needed to save the cabinet.” Hina bit her lip. “She probably saved us all.”

“Yeah, she did,” Aang agreed, and the two fell silent. Hina let her eyes flutter shut, letting her guard slip, and Aang soon followed; they sat there with eyes closed, breathing in the mild spring air and the scent of moss and shade that pervaded the tiny, overgrown garden. Hina tried her best to quiet her thoughts, letting her mind focus on the run gently warming the garden through a canopy of overgrown foliage, and the wind rustling through the leaves and her robes; Aang seemed to do the same. But she spoke again after a moment.

“This is all so strange,” she said, aimlessly toying with a leaf on a branch that hung over her left shoulder.

“What is?” Aang asked, opening his eyes to peer over at her. She didn’t meet his eyes, but she knew he was watching her intently.

“Grieving,” she told him. “I feel like I should be crying, or at least…upset. But instead I just feel numb.”

  
“It is,” he agreed. “I thought I’d be used to it after all this time” – neither of them wanted to put specifics to that idea – “but it’s still…sobering. Knowing someone’s never coming back, even if you never knew them to begin with.”

“I’ve lost people, but mourning is new to me.” Hina’s throat felt tight and she swallowed hard, not sure if she was addressing Aang or herself when she spoke again. “When my parents died, all I could think about was the fear that the people who killed them would get me, too. I didn’t grieve, I just lay awake at night worrying that the same thing would happen to me.” Aang reached over to rest his hand on top of hers, for which she was grateful. “And people were always dying in the Liberation League, but there was never time to stop and think, let alone actually grieve them.”

“War is like that,” Aang agreed. “It never gives us time to mourn the dead, does it?”

“There was always something more important,” Hina said. “So I never even really learned how.”

“I didn’t either. It was either pretending everything was fine or going into the Avatar State, with no in-between.” Aang shook his head. “But maybe mourning doesn’t have to be like that. Maybe it’s just this.”

“This?”

“Remembering,” he told her. “Thinking about the past. Paying our respects.” He squeezed her hand. “Maybe this is as deep as it ever gets.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she said. “You’re pretty wise sometimes, little Avatar.”

Aang smiled at that, the kind that reached his eyes; he didn’t even seem offended by Hina’s nickname anymore. “You too, short stuff.”

“Do you really think that’s what mourning is? Looking back?” Hina asked, her smile at the affectionate nickname ebbing back into a neutral expression. “I guess I’ve always thought about grief as a future kind of thing. That’s an interesting way to put it.”

“I think it’s about looking back and remembering what the person’s life was like, but maybe you’re right,” Aang said thoughtfully. “Why do you think it’s about the future?”

“Well, maybe remembering someone is about the past, but grief?” she met his eyes and was sure that the look of muted pain in his matched her own. “That’s about realizing that you’re going to have to live a whole future without them.”

“That’s a good way of putting it.” Aang sighed. “But maybe it’s neither. Maybe we’re doing this all wrong.” He shrugged with the arm whose hand wasn’t holding Hina’s. “Maybe _everyone’s_ doing it wrong. Maybe there is no one definition of grief. Maybe it’s not as simple as past or future.” His eyes were frantic now. “Maybe-“

“Aang, hey.” Hina placed her hand on his arm to calm him. “I don’t know if you’re right, but it’s okay not to know that.” She shook her head ever so slightly. “Agni knows I’d never even think about it.”

“Why not?”

“Thinking is dangerous,” Hina said flatly, trying not to let him hear the wobble in her voice. “During the war, our focus had to be on survival. Compartmentalization was everything and we couldn’t be distracted, so thinking too much about what we were doing or what could happen to us could literally kill us all.” She moved her palm down his arm to take his hand again. “So I guess asking big questions was another thing I never really learned to do.”

“I can’t decide whether that would be scary or way easier than what I do,” Aang replied. “Which is think too much about _everything.”_

“Two sides of a coin, we are,” Hina sighed. “When what we both want to be is the narrow part…whatever that thing is called. The tiny area in between the two sides.”

  
“I’m rubbing off on you,” Aang teased.

“No you’re not,” she huffed. “If anything, _I’m_ rubbing off on _you.”_

“It’s probably a little bit of both.” He squeezed her hand. “We really did, didn’t we?”

“I mean, I spent so much time with you that I couldn’t _not_ pick up a few things.” An unwanted but uncontrollable grin overtook her face. “There are worse things to be than a weird little dude who blurts out shockingly deep statements on the regular like they’re nothing.”

“You gotta stop calling me _little,”_ he complained, but she could see that he didn’t mind. “It’s never going to make sense.”

Hina sat up straighter. “The best things in life usually make the least sense,” she said in what she hoped was a reasonably decent impression of Uncle Iroh’s voice. In spite of her best efforts not to, she burst out laughing. “Oh, Agni, I sound _ridiculous.”_

“Was that supposed to be me?” Aang raised an eyebrow at her.

“No, General Iroh,” Hina laughed. “Isn’t that something he’d say?”

“Probably.” Aang knocked his shoulder into hers. “If it makes you feel any better, I like it when you let loose like that. Even if your impressions suck.”

_“Hey!”_

“What?” Aang shrugged innocently.

  
“Oh, nothing,” she sighed. Her cheeks were flaming now and she found herself oddly desperate to change the subject. “So…where to next for you?”

Aang’s face fell and she almost regretted bringing it up, but his smile returned quickly. “Looks like it’s going to be the North Pole,” he told her. “The Northern Water Tribe needs me to mediate a conflict between two factions, one that wants to cut ties with the Fire Nation and one that’s open to working with them.”

“That’ll be fun,” Hina said. “Nothing like weeks of sitting in a conference room arguing about a conflict that’ll probably never be resolved to anyone’s satisfaction.” She thought for a moment. “In the North Pole, no less. Their conference rooms are probably made of ice.”

“True story,” Aang laughed. “I’m going to miss this weather.”

“Not to mention having something to do,” Hina added. “When are you heading out?”

Aang ducked his head, not wanting to look at her. “Actually, I was already supposed to have left,” he admitted. “The plan was for me to head out as soon as the funeral ended. Everything’s ready for me to go, and Appa is waiting for me, but…”

“But?”

“But I couldn’t leave without seeing you again.”

Hina’s heart stuttered oddly and she wondered what was wrong before the rush of blood to her cheeks made it all too clear. “Aang…”

“You mean a lot to me, Hina,” he told her. “Really. I know you said we were just partners, but I think of you as a really good friend.”

She swallowed hard, trying to conceal her inexplicable disappointment at that. “You, too,” she stammered. “I mean…I also see you as a close friend.” She managed a tight smile. “And I’m glad I got to see you again before you left.”

“Me, too.” He smiled almost shyly. “Talking you into letting me tag along with you was a pretty good call.”

“Well, you can be surprisingly persuasive.” Hina’s lip curled. “But I can’t keep you here. If you need to go smack some sense and the fear of the Spirits into a bunch of Northern Water Tribe elders, you’d better get going.”

Aang looked reluctant to comply, but he did, brushing a stray leaf from his robe as he stood. “I should,” he said, and Hina wordlessly followed him to the gate, down the covered walkways they’d walked through a thousand times together, through the corridors and to the palace’s steps, where Appa was saddled and waiting for him. Hina waited at the top of the stairs and watched him descend with a growing lump in her throat, wondering where it came from and, at the same time, not wondering at all.

And before she could stop them, her feet were moving of their own accord. She swept the skirt of her mourning robe into her hands as she took the steps down two at a time. But he was about to mount Appa, and she’d miss her chance-

“Aang, _wait!”_ she called, and he immediately turned, his whole face lighting up as she bounded down the last ten steps and threw herself into his arms with such force that he stumbled backwards.

This time, Hina tucked under his chin herself.

Inhaling the scent of incense that clung to his robes and that of jasmine and sky bison underneath for the last time in the foreseeable future, Hina felt a prick at the backs of her eyes. He held her as close as he could in mixed company, his breathing a little shaky as the stoic Spymistress who’d impressed and intimidated and charmed him time and time again clung to him like a limpet.

“I’m going to miss you, Aang,” she finally said after a pause that felt eternal.

“I’ll see you again, Spymistress,” he told her. “That’s a promise.”

Hina Oyama clung to nothing, but in this moment she did not let go; nor did she often take others at their word, and yet in this moment, she believed him completely. And the smile that warming realization left with her clung to her face as she watched Appa rise into the sky.

* * *

**~ three months later ~**

“After careful consideration and review,” the Spokesman of the Council intoned, reading off of the scroll in his hands, “the Council has finally decided that the changes to next year’s budget…” he paused, as if for dramatic effect (which, knowing him, it likely was)…”will be approved.”

Though they had to keep their composure, Zuko and Katara shared a look that would be difficult to misinterpret. His face glowed with pride and hers looked close to tears of relief, and they exchanged a rather fervent squeezing of hands underneath the table. “Thank you, Spokesman Yu,” Zuko said, “and Council. I believe you’ll see that you’ve made the right decision. Meeting dismissed.”

The moment he’d adjourned the meeting, Katara pulled Zuko from his chair and walked as briskly as she could out of the room before breaking into a full-on run in the hallways, laughing incredulously, her whole face lit up with joy. “We _did_ it!” she crowed when they finally came to a stop, facing Zuko and squeezing his hands so excitedly he thought she might break them. (He wouldn’t mind.)

He pulled her into a crushing embrace. “No, we didn’t, my love. _You_ did.”

“Yes, but-“

“Nuh-uh.” He pressed a finger to her mouth. “ _You_ did this _._ This was your idea and your work. I won’t be made to take credit where it isn’t due.”

“Fine, then. Thank you for giving me the chance to,” she said, letting go so she could continue walking. They locked arms so they’d at least _appear_ to be respectable and not celebrating like schoolchildren who’d won a game of Capture the Dragon’s Egg, but their faces gave away any impression of measured coolness that they attempte to maintain. “Staying here was the best thing I could’ve done.”

Zuko kissed the crown of her head. “I agree.” Annoyed with propriety, he released her arm so that he could loop his around her waist, pulling her into his side. “And you’ve won over my council quite admirably.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “A Council ought to back up its Fire Lady, shouldn’t it?”

Zuko rolled his eyes as if her casual use of that title didn’t do inexplicable things to his heart. “We’d have to be married for that, Katara,” he pointed out, the stone in his pocket taking on new weight.

“Please, I’ve heard the gossip,” Katara teased. “People have been calling me that as a joke since I got here.”

He said nothing to that, and Katara seemed a little disappointed. He had to fight the urge to reach into his pocket but something stilled him. _Not time yet,_ it told him.

For now, he obeyed.

* * *

Zuko was distracted all through tea that afternoon, fidgeting incessantly and reaching into his pocket more times than could _possibly_ go unnoticed, and his mother seemed to know exactly what was racing through his mind even before he did. “You’ve got a week left to pick a wife, you know,” she teased with a knowing smile. “You’d better get started if you don’t want one of the councilmen to foist his daughter on you.”

“Mom, come _on.”_ He did not appreciate the attempt at humor; his mother’s spirits had returned with time, and he was rediscovering the unfortunate fact that her wit could be rather sharp when she had something to aim it at. “You already know that it’s Katara or it’s no one at all.”

“Oh, I know, dear,” she said lightly, stirring her tea. “And frankly, I couldn’t be happier. She’s a wonderful girl.”

Zuko couldn’t keep from smiling. “She is,” he agreed. “She really is.”

“Then _why_ on Agni’s green earth,” she teased, “have you not asked for her hand yet?”

“It’s just hard. I keep waiting for the right time, and I have this necklace” – he finally pulled the betrothal necklace, navy blue satin with a pendant carved of moonstone, from his pocket – “with me wherever I go, just in case, but…it never seems like the perfect moment.”

“Can I give you a piece of advice, Zuko?” Ursa asked.

“Sure, as long as it’s good.” The corners of his lips quirked up.

“Oh, it is.” Ursa smiled. “The perfect moment is going to be the one you create yourself, Zuko. Don’t wait for it.”

He sipped his tea in moody silence for a moment, unwilling to admit that she was right (Ursa smiled knowingly, as she always did) and unenthused by the prospect of this being made harder for him than it already was. Then he couldn’t take it anymore.

“But what if she says no?”

Ursa raised her eyebrows. “Zuko, you can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he said. “ _Deathly.”_

“Then you really don’t know your girlfriend,” Ursa said primly, taking a teacake from the tray in front of them. “Trust me on this. She’s not going to say no.”

“Well, she does keep making jokes about being Fire Lady…”

“See? She’s dropping hints!”

“Is _not!”_

“Okay, Zuko.” Ursa elbowed him lightly. “Ask her about that. I know I’m right.”

* * *

“Okay, enough is _enough!”_

“Katara?” Zuko jolted from his half-sleep at the sound of Katara’s voice at his door. He’d been reviewing a proposal in his study (and…trying to avoid a proposal of an entirely different kind, admittedly) after dinner – a dinner at which Katara had joked and flirted incessantly only to leave exasperated – and he hadn’t expected her to barge in as she was doing now. Evidently, knocking had been a formality, and she let herself in, arms crossed.

“I am _so_ tired of dropping hint after hint that you don’t understand!”

“Um…” his eyes widened. “I have no idea what you’re-“

“ _Exactly!”_ Katara threw up her hands. “Clearly, my approach isn’t working, and you’re running out of time, so I’m here to _set the record straight_.” She glared at him for effect. “We should get married."

He nearly choked on air. “Wait, you _want_ that?" 

  
“Of course I do, _idiot!”_ she snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Why else would I _constantly_ joke about people calling me the Fire Lady? _Yes,_ Zuko, I want to marry you. I want to be Fire Lady and I want to spend my entire life outwitting pigheaded councilmen and getting yelled at for not having heirs and actually have said heirs and yell at you when you don’t sleep and fall asleep and wake up next to you and keep working to make this country better, and I want to do it all with _you._ I’ve just been waiting for you to ask me, and I’m not even sure if you’re going to do it anymore!”

“Wait, are you…proposing to me?”

“No, I’m telling _you_ to propose to _me-“_

Her words finally sank in, and his face lit up. “You want to marry me?”

“I just said that, yes,” she told him, trying to sound exasperated but smiling a little too widely to pull it off. “So are you going to ask me or not?”

“Um, this was supposed to be romantic,” he said, fumbling around in his pocket, “but, um.” He cleared his throat and a wicked smile crossed his face. _Two can play at this game._ “Minister Katara of the Southern Water Tribe,” he said, taking on an affectedly posh tone, “most Eminent and Esteemed Flower of My Heart, the Jewel of My Very Being, I do love you _oh so unbearably much_.” He wasn’t sure whether the tears he was biting back came from laughter or elation. “Would you do me the honor of being the Fire Lady everyone already thinks you are?”

Only then did he _finally_ manage to fish the necklace from his pocket, holding out with about as much grace as a fishmonger might hold out a dead anchovy. “Um. There’s also this.”

  
Katara was laughing too hard to notice, though, and she threw her arms around his neck before he had a chance to react. “ _Yes,”_ she wheezed, still laughing. “Yes, yes, _yes!”_

“Hm. That wasn’t so bad after all,” he teased, and she kissed him soundly.

“Get used to that,” she said, her smile reaching her eyes, her whole face, her entire _being._ “You have an entire lifetime of being yelled at to look forward to.”

He stole another kiss before he spoke again. “I can’t wait.”


	30. Sun and Moon and Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or, "everything you've ever wanted if you've been following this from the start: the chapter." SHOUTOUT TO KAT ON TWITTER. She's been reading along with this and omg. her comments are giving me LIFE and holy crap the adrenaline high? astounding. ASTOUNDING. I LOVE YOU ALL I LOVE THIS FIC BYEEEEEE *peaces out*

**~One Year Later~**

“Hear, hear!” Toph struck her wineglass with her spoon with a little too much force, sitting up as tall as she could to make herself seen. “Before they bring the food out, I wanna make a toast.”

From across the table, Sokka glared at her. It seemed as if there were something a little more important than toasting order at stake here, but no one but the two was quite sure what it was. “Hey, _I_ was gonna do the opening toast!”

“She called dibs, Sokka,” Katara said, settling the matter. She hadn’t planned on toasts when she and Zuko had decided to forego the traditional banquet with their advisors in favor of a small dinner with their closest friends the night before their wedding, but she should’ve known they’d take any chance they could to embarrass the couple. “Can’t say I’m not worried about this, but Toph goes first.”

“ _Thank_ you!” Toph crowed, clearing her throat. “Okay, first of all, I just wanna say on behalf of all of us that it’s _about time.”_ She paused for effect, which only persisted in making Sokka even more irritated that she’d beaten him to the punch. “Because, let’s face it, we’ve all known that these two dorks were crazy about each other since the Western Air Temple. But they had their share of… _roadblocks.”_

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Zuko asked under his breath, exchanging a worried look with his fiancée.

“Excellent question!” Toph said, a little too excited. “We’ve never told you about any of this, but since you’re getting married tomorrow, I think it’s _pretty_ safe to say we can tell this story now. _Right, Sokka?”_

“ _I_ should be the one telling them!” he protested, throwing up his hands. Suki sighed at his exaggerated indignation, though not without amusement, and patted Sokka’s shoulder.

“Honey, you were drunk out of your _mind_ when it happened,” she reminded him, leaving the one hand on his shoulder while her other rested against her barely-swollen stomach. “I doubt you’re exactly the authority on this.”

“Yeah, but so was Toph,” Sokka protested. “The only ones who _weren’t_ drunk were you and Aang!”

“And Aang’s too sweet to tell them about this, so it falls to me, clearly,” Suki said, smirking. “So, the night of my wedding-“

“Oh, no you don’t, Fans,” Toph cut in, tenacious in her determination to tell…whatever this story was. (Katara and Zuko exchanged another worried look, knowing all too well that Toph wouldn’t be nearly so excited about this if they weren’t going to be embarrassed by this.) “So, we’re all at Sokka and Suki’s wedding two years back, right?”

“The night Sokka challenged me to a drinking contest and I forgot the whole reception?” Katara crossed her arms. “What about it?”

“So, as we’ve already established, everyone was totally sloshed, right?” Toph smirked. “Well. Let’s just say I may or may not have lied a little when I told you the next morning that nothing happened.”

Katara looked like steam might shoot from her ears if she heard anymore. “I _knew_ something was up!”

“I’m sure it can’t be that bad, Katara,” Zuko told her placatingly, but even he looked a little green.

“So, as we probably also know, Zuko is a sad drunk.” Toph paused for effect. “And Katara is a clingy drunk. And those two were pining after each other something _awful_ at the time, right?”

“Um, Toph, where are you going with this…?” Zuko asked, starting to look as nervous as Katara did.

“So, Sokka and Suki start talking to Zuko, right?” Toph says, rather pointlessly locking sightless eyes on Sokka’s _solely_ to assert her dominance. “And Zuko is just sitting there sulking, and they start talking about Katara.”

Zuko’s face blanched. “I…do _not_ like where this is going.”

“So, anyway. He starts confessing his love and everything, and he’s getting even _more_ pounded while he does it, so it gets worse and worse with every drink. I think he was at seven when Katara came over.”

“Oh, Agni, _no,”_ he groaned, burying his face in his hands while Katara, unaware of her role in the whole thing but embarrassed already, just stared, wide-eyed, at her friends. “Tell me this isn’t what I think it is…”

“Oh, it is, Sparky,” Toph cackled. “So Katara comes over, and she hears _everything._ And Zuko’s kind of a classy drunk – he can hold it together even though he says weird stuff – but Katara was a _wreck._ And she started going off about how she wanted to marry you-“

“I _what?”_ Katara shot out of her seat, face flaming. “You _have_ to be lying! Aang, tell me she’s lying!”

  
“Sorry, Katara,” he winced. “I told them not to tell you.”

“You _told them not to tell me?”_

“I thought it would be better if we didn’t meddle!” he protested as the rest of the group snickered behind their hands.

“Oh, but it gets better,” Toph gloated. “So after that, Katara starts asking if she can kiss him.”

“Oh, Spirits,” Katara groaned. “We don’t even remember our first kiss?” 

“Oh, no, he wouldn’t kiss you,” Toph said nonchalantly. “Kept talking about honor.”

“Well, at least there’s that,” Katara sighed. “Sounds like Zuko, all right.”

Zuko, though, wasn’t taking this quite as well. “I even talk about honor when I’m _drunk?”_

“Yeah, so, anyway. Things really kicked into high gear when that Spymistress of yours told Aang about your whole one-year marriage thing, and he told us, and we realized you guys were really just running in place.”

“And still didn’t tell us?” Katara glowered. “You know how much trouble you could’ve saved us?”

“We wanted you to find your way to each other on your own,” Suki said, elbowing Sokka so he wouldn’t say anything untoward. “We knew you would.”

“And Aang was a chicken who wouldn’t say anything,” Toph added. “So yeah. You guys had some roadblocks. But you got there eventually, and no one can ever know that I said this, but…” she blushed. “I’m happy for you guys.”

“I’d thank you, but I’m still not over the fact that you hid a drunk love confession from us for an entire year,” Katara huffed.

“I…” Zuko was still too stunned to speak. “I told her how I felt _three months_ before I thought I did?”

No one had a chance to answer as the servers began to bring in their dinner, but as soon as they’d all filled their plates, Suki piped up with another question. “How _did_ you actually end up confessing your feelings?”

Slightly recovered, Zuko scratched the back of his neck. “I, uh…” he trailed off. “Um. It involved a hospital…”

* * *

“Katara? May I come in?”

  
Katara jolted at the sound of a voice at her door, setting off a volley of _tsks_ from the maids who were trying to pin up her hair. “Lady Ursa?” she called. “Come in!”

“There she is!” Ursa said, her eyes brightening when she saw her soon-to-be daughter-in-law. She’d already changed into the cream-and-blue hanfu she’d wear for the ceremony, but her hair was still half-down as the maids attempted to twist it into the elaborate crown of braids that was traditional. She’d known she’d have to make some concessions to the more traditional members of her staff, so she’d consented to the painfully-complicated hairstyle, but she’d insisted upon the traditional red and gold of her gown’s accents being replaced with blue and silver. “You look beautiful, Katara.”

“Thanks, Lady Ursa,” she said, blushing. “I never knew it could take so long to do my hair until today.” 

A shadow crossed Ursa’s face – she was, no doubt, recalling her own wedding day – but it quickly passed. “It’ll be beautiful, if it’s any consolation,” she said, taking a seat in an armchair across from Katara’s. “Are you nervous?”

“No, not particularly,” Katara replied, her smile open and genuine. “It’s going to be new, but it’s also something I want too badly to be afraid of.” She laughed, a faraway sound. “Reminds me of something Iroh told me once. ‘Love is what happens when the fear of the unknown is nothing compared to the hope of possibility.’ I’ve realized how true that is lately.” 

“It is,” Ursa agreed. “I’m so glad Zuko found you.”

“Me, too.”

“And you’re going to be a wonderful Fire Lady,” she continued. “It’s not going to be easy, as I know you already know, but you…” she sighed sadly. “You could be the Fire Lady that I never was.”

“Lady Ursa, don’t-“

Ursa raised a hand to stop her. “No, Katara, don’t. It wasn’t my fault, but I know that I didn’t have many chances to make a lasting impact. But _you_ do.” She locked eyes with Katara. “And you’ll have a husband who loves you to do that with.”

“I will,” she said, blushing again as she ran her fingers across the surface of the moonstone pendant that hung below her mother’s. “And believe me, Lady Ursa, I know how important this chance is. I’m not going to waste it.”

“You won’t, I’m certain.” There was nothing threatening in Ursa’s tone. “Besides, all I’d ever ask of you is that you love Zuko.”

“I do, Lady Ursa. You know that,” Katara told her, and her earnest conviction was met with a smile from the older woman.

“Zuko hasn’t always been able to count on the unconditional love of the people in his life,” Ursa sighed. “I just want to know that he’ll always have one person in his corner.”

“He has more than that,” she said resolutely. “He has me, and he’ll always have me. But he has you and Iroh and Aang and Toph and Sokka and Suki and Hina, too.” She released her pendant. “I don’t think he’s ever going to want for love again.”

“That’s all I could ever ask for.” Ursa stood, her smile soft and sad and unmistakably sincere. “Good luck, Minister Katara.”

She only smiled in response, but when Ursa had shut the door and the maids went back to buzzing around her, she took the pendant of her betrothal necklace in her hand and replied.

“I don’t think I’m going to need it.”

* * *

They approached the Fire Sage arm-in-arm, throwing furtive, fleeting glances at each other all the way through the long walk from the entrance to the shrine to its apex. _You’re beautiful,_ Zuko mouthed to Katara when the majority of the guests had turned their eyes away; _you’re not bad yourself,_ she mouthed back with a smirk that _no one_ could possibly have missed.

  
(She didn’t care. She loved him, she was _his;_ these people might’ve been used to stuffy political marriages but they ought to know that the union of the Fire Lord and the Waterbender would not be that sort of marriage.)

They were brought to face each other, breaths catching in both of their throats because they’d never thought each other more beautiful than they did in the dim of the shrine, their elegantly-clothed silhouettes flickering in the candlelight. A cord was tied around their wrists as the Sage guided them through the simple vows that had been Fire Nation tradition for centuries, and with that he snapped the cord. He’d barely managed to force out the words “you may kiss” before Zuko had stepped to Katara and, gently cradling her chin, caught her lips in a brief, proper kiss that nonetheless sent chills racing up her spine.

  
“The Fire Lord and Lady,” the Sage announced as they turned out to the crowd – clapping politely, mostly, because none but their dearest friends dared to make a scene – and glanced at each other, elation rising on both of their faces.

“That’s _me,”_ Katara whispered giddily. “I’m the _Fire Lady!”_

He squeezed her hand, wishing he could sweep her off the floor and spin her but settling for something a little more discreet. _Agni,_ he loved this woman. “You’re the Fire Lady,” he repeated. “ _My_ Fire Lady.”

“I like the sound of that,” she teased.

“Believe me, I like it even more.”

* * *

They moved to a banquet hall that hadn’t seen use in years for the reception and it was odd, seeing the place that had been covered in dust before three months of painstaking work had prepared it for the wedding, decorated so opulently and so full of the crème de la crème of the Four Nations.

_Just another way this changes everything,_ Zuko thought, dropping a kiss to his bride’s temple. She turned her head to look up at him, knowing they were a little bit out-of-view from the place where they sat on a pedestal removed from the guests. “What is it?” she asked gently, her eyes soft and joyful and free of the pain and stress he’d seen all too often since she’d come here.

Agni, she was beautiful.

“Just you,” he said.

“Oh.” She leaned into his side. “Isn’t it silly that I’m at my own _wedding_ and I can’t kiss my own husband?” she shook her head.

“I’m never going to get sick of hearing you call me that, _wife,”_ he said, his eyes saying everything he couldn’t in front of so many people.

  
“Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind.” She pretended to adjust the shoulderpiece of his regalia, effectively hiding their faces from view so she could steal a kiss. “ _Husband.”_

“We really are obnoxious,” he laughed, pulling her closer.

“Yeah, but we’ve earned it,” she replied cheekily.

“That we have.” He glanced out over the bustling floor. “We’ll have to begin the dancing soon, I’d guess.”

  
“Well, at least then we’ll have an excuse to touch,” she quipped, taking his hand. “Ready?”

He smiled back at his Fire Lady with all the confidence in the world. “Ready.”

* * *

Hina had been happier than almost anyone (privately, of course) when the Fire Lord had announced his engagement, and she hadn’t been shy about expressing it. But this seemed like a heavy price to pay for that, as she sat surrounded by chattering noblewomen who couldn’t stop talking about so-and-so’s scandalous new dress or someone-or-other’s scandalous overtures to a married woman who was scandalously receptive to them. Hina wanted to scream, or, better yet, pick up her napkin and make a break for a table where the company would be a little less banal. But instead she sighed, twisting her napkin in her hands, and watched as the Fire Lord and Lady opened the floor with the first dance of the evening.

They, at least, provided a nice distraction. Katara looked radiant in cream and blue – that, of all the scandals her tablemates hadn’t stopped chattering about, was by _far_ the most scandalous, and Hina applauded her for it – and Zuko, weighed down as he was by his full regalia, had never looked lighter than he did as he danced with her.

But their dance was over soon and, as the noblewomen flitted away from the table, she was left by herself again, bored and alone with her thoughts. She smoothed the skirt of her plum hanfu for no reason, throwing glances around the room for people she knew – some she’d love to see, others who made her heart pound – to no avail. She’d be here all night, she realized, unless she stooped to dancing with one of the countless bachelors on the prowl.

Until she wasn’t.

  
“Spymistress Oyama,” she heard from behind, and she dropped the fan whose handle she’d been twisting in her hands when she turned and saw who’d called her.

“Avatar Aang,” she replied, standing to bow because she, who always had a plan and an unwavering will to carry it out, had no idea what else to do. That, and because he’d grown: not taller, but older, more experienced, cheekbones more defined ( _don’t think about the cheekbones, stupid girl!_ She tried to chastise herself, but it didn’t work) and carriage all the more confident. “I hadn’t realized you’d be here.”

At that, the formal bearing he’d tried to maintain melted away and he laughed. “What’s with the titles, Hina?” he chuckled. “Did I make you mad?”

Her cheeks flushed. “It seemed proper,” she said stiffly. “In this company, and whatnot.”

“Okay, now I _really_ think you’re mad at me,” he said, and Hina wondered grudgingly when he’d become so much more confident. It made it all the more difficult to play off this interaction. “I haven’t seen you in a year! Don’t I even get a hug?”

That broke through Hina’s shell, and she smiled shyly. “You would,” she said, “if I hadn’t just spent four hours listening to a bunch of windbags prattle on about how ‘scandalous’ everything was.” She made a show of glancing in the direction that the whole amoeba of women had moved in and adopted an affected tone as she continued. “The Avatar and the Spymistress, _publicly embracing?_ My oh _my,_ what a _scandal!”_ she imitated, fanning herself with an expression of feigned horror.

“Oh, Hina,” Aang cackled, “I’ve missed you.”

She flushed, unsure what to say next. “It’s been pretty boring.” _Wait, no, it sounds like you’re talking about him. Abort!_ “I mean, the party. The ceremony was lovely, but the reception…”

“You should’ve come to sit with us!” Aang replied. “Me and Sokka and Suki and Toph, I mean. We’re not boring.”

“I’m sure you’re not,” she laughed. “But that might cause a-“

“Don’t you say it, Hina!”

“-scandal.”

“Fine, then.” Aang crossed his arms. “Dance with me.”

Blood rushed to Hina’s cheeks. “Dance…with you?”

“Yeah. It’ll be fun!” He extended his hand. “Wouldn’t it?”

“You know what? Sure.” She took his offered hand, trying to ignore the way it swallowed up her small one completely, and let him lead her to the floor, where other couples had begun to dance. Internally she couldn’t help but remember the first time they’d done this, all those years ago at a party meant to bring them to this very point, and she was too tongue-tied to speak – _I’ve_ never _been like this, what’s wrong with me? –_ for the first minute of the dance.

“I never got to tell you earlier, by the way,” Aang said to break the silence. “You look beautiful tonight.”

_There goes my blood pressure again,_ Hina thought with a stifled sigh. “Thank you,” she said coolly, trying not to think too much about it. “You, uh…” _think, Hina._ “…I’ve missed you,” she blurted out.

His face was like the sun just then. “I’ve missed you too, Hina,” he told her, looping his arms around her waist. “More than I thought I would.”

“I’m not sure whether to be touched or offended,” Hina quipped, suddenly _light_ for the first time since they’d seen each other again.

“Well, I already thought I’d miss you a lot, so that’s a good thing,” he told her, raising her arm above her head to twirl her.

“You could’ve written,” she said lightly, though in truth she’d been a little embarrassingly hurt that he hadn’t.

“I thought about it,” he said. “But…can I tell you the truth?”

“Of course you can,” she said, pulling him a little to the left so as not to collide with another couple.

“I never thought anything I’d write to you would be good enough,” he admitted, flushing.

This time, when Hina’s cheeks turned red, it was with pleasure, not embarrassment. “Really?” she asked. “But…why?”

“Honestly, Hina, you’re just…so much smarter than me,” he admitted sheepishly. “And you’re so well-spoken and mature, and…I thought anything I wrote would make me sound like a stupid teenager.”

“It wouldn’t have,” she said softly, her heart picking up speed. “I wish you’d written.”

“I do, too,” he replied as the song ended. “Weird question. How far are we from that garden you like so much?”

Hina grinned. “Not far at all, why?”

He’d taken her hand and begun to run before she even knew where he was going, and her heart soared because she knew, right then, as they ran past clusters of guests who all turned to stare as they passed, that she didn’t _care_ whether they stared. They always would, whether it be for her age or her friendship with the Fire Lord or the Earth Kingdom green of her eyes, and they might as well be staring because she was happy and free and plunging headlong into a much-needed diversion. She took the front to lead him once he no longer knew where he was going and they stumbled into the garden laughing and totally out-of-breath.

“It looks exactly the same,” Aang panted, laughing though nothing was funny. Hina couldn’t help but do the same and they leaned against the cool, vine-covered stone of the overgrown wall, catching their breath.

“Yeah, it really does,” Hina agreed, smiling up at the sky. “You know we’re going to get teased relentlessly when we go back and everyone realizes we were gone, right?”

Aang turned to face her and smiled. “It’ll be worth it.”

She turned, too, and raised her eyes to meet his, something like understanding sparking along the path from his eyes to hers. “It will be,” she said, suddenly breathless, and though she’d known why the thought of him made her heart beat in a funny, off-beat rhythm for months now, it finally bubbled up to the front of her mind where she couldn’t bury it anymore.

_I…feel something for you,_ she wanted to tell him. _I can’t explain it, but I really, really do._

“Hina?” Aang asked softly, because the night and the moment seemed to precious to taint with anything avove a whisper. “Are you all right?”

Before she could convince herself of the many, _many_ reasons it was impractical and unreasonable and irrational and all of the many things that Hina Oyama was not, she rose on her toes, grabbed the collar of his robe, and pulled him down to meet her in a split-second kiss.

His eyes went wide when she pulled back and she was sure hers did too, but after the shock subsided his face was brighter than the moon above them. “Hina?”

“Yeah?” she stammered, her voice catching.

He leaned down and cupped her cheek, simply staring for a moment, before he leaned in to return the favor, slow and sweet and gentle as a summer rain.

“Well, I guess I don’t have to tell you how I feel about you now,” he said sheepishly when they’d had to break for air.

Hina just smiled and tucked herself under his chin.

“No, you don’t,” she said. “I missed you, little Avatar.”

“I missed you more, short stuff.”

* * *

**~several hours later~**

Katara couldn’t remember ever being happier than this, lying against satin sheets turned out against the heat of the night with her husband’s – _husband’s! –_ cheek pressed to her chest. She ran her fingers through his still-sweaty hair, relishing the way he leaned into the simplest of her touches.

  
“Most Eminent and Esteemed Flower of My Heart?” Zuko said after a few moments, still not moving.

Katara smirked. “If you’re going to say part of it, you have to say all of it,” she teased.

He huffed, his breath hot against her skin, but complied. “Most Eminent and Esteemed Flower of My Heart,” he started, “Jewel of My Very Being, I have something to show you.”

“Oh?” she raised an eyebrow playfully, even though he couldn’t see it from where he lay. “What’s that?”

He reluctantly got up, assuaging his pouting wife with a quick kiss before walking to an armoire and fishing out an ornately-carved rosewood box from the top shelf. “You wanted to see these once,” Zuko told her, and she sat up in eager anticipation even though she didn’t know what she was waiting for. “Now that you’re my wife” – he paused just so he could meet her eyes and see the way she smiled at that – “I guess our relationship could probably survive this.”

“Zuko, what exactly is in that box?” she asked, leaning forwards as if to get a better look at it.

  
“You’ll see!” he held the box out to her, taking a seat beside Katara and pulling her into his lap after she took it. She reclined against his chest, opening the lid and thumbing through the contents.

“The love letters,” she realized, a grin like the sunrise stretching across her face. “These are the love letters you never sent me!”

“And you deserve every line of every love letter I could ever write,” he said, dropping his chin to rest on her shoulder. She nuzzled against him and the gesture felt _impossibly_ right. “Even the terrible ones I wrote when I was eighteen and so in love with you it made me sick.”

“I should hope you still are,” she teased as she unfolded the first of the letters. “ _Dear Katara-“_

“No, _please_ not out loud,” he begged, suddenly growing warm. “I may want you to have these, but _I_ never need to relive them.”

“Hm, sorry, Fire Lord, that’s not a choice you get to make,” she said. “ _Dear Katara, with every passing day, my heart aches for you more. My pain at our separation grows ever-stronger…”_ she trailed off as she burst out laughing. “Oh, _Zuko,_ you _didn’t!”_

“I did,” he sighed. “I really did.”

She turned in his arms to angle her lips right. “I think it’s cute,” she said after she’d kissed him breathless for neither the first nor the last time that night. “That you were so…”

“Cringeworthy?”

“Passionate,” she finished. “You were a teenager, Zuko. It’s natural.”

“Yeah, but…” he fished through the box until he found one with a red seal on it that hadn’t been opened since he’d written it. He broke the seal and scanned it for the line. “’ _I challenge the accursed fate which took me away from you at the very moment when our love could have made us both whole’?”_ he grimaced. “Even for me, that was bad.”

Katara giggled, taking out another. “Let’s see about this one.”

This time she read in silence, her eyes growing wide as saucers as they traveled down the page. Zuko read over her shoulder, his arms wound tightly around her waist, and the heat of embarrassment rose to his face again. “Oh, this one,” he sighed. “That was when I told you how I felt.”

“’ _I’ll never give them to you,’”_ Katara read, her voice shaky. “’ _I’ll never know what your lips would feel like on mine. I’ll never know how long it took, after that night in Ba Sing Se, for your feelings to fizzle out, when mine never did. I’ll never see the way your eyes might sparkle when you noticed me holding back tears during our wedding. I’ll never wake up with you in my arms.’”_ She paused, trying unsuccessfully to calm the quiver in her voice. “’ _I’ll never be with the woman I love.’_ Zuko…”

“I got a little carried away,” he admitted sheepishly, but if he’d had anything else to say, it died on his lips when she turned in his arms and threw hers around his neck with every ounce of strength she still possessed after the day they’d had. She pressed herself as close to him as she could until nothing but air separated them from one another, and she kissed him with tenderness he’d never even _imagined_ before her, one hand stroking the countours of his jawline and the other tangled in his hair.

“ _Zuko,”_ she said breathlessly when she pulled away. “I’m so _sorry.”_

 _  
_“No, no, it’s okay,” he reassured her, pressing her close. “It was a heat-of-the-moment thing. Besides” – he kissed the crown of her head – “you’re my _wife_ now, so I can’t exactly complain.”

“You better not,” she said, snuggling in closer. “Would you read me the rest of them?”

  
“You test me, Fire Lady,” he sighed, but he couldn’t deny her anything, not when she was the sun for which he rose and the moon for whom he’d fallen and every star in his sky.

He read, and when he heard her breathing slow and felt her body relax in his arms, something in him he hadn’t even known he possessed overcame him.

“I love you,” he murmured, careful not to wake her as he gently moved her over so she could stretch out. She curled into him and he pressed his lips to her hair. “I love you,” he told her again as she drifted off, because no other words would suffice. “I love you so much, Katara.” He brushed her hair from her face and shifted her so she could lie against his torso, cheek resting atop the scar he’d always consider his greatest accomplishment. Maybe it was the letters, maybe it was the moment – regardless, he felt sappier than he had in years. “My wife, my love, my Fire Lady,” he murmured. “I _love_ you.”

She could not respond but it didn’t matter when the way she rested against him, so secure in the knowledge that he was her safety and her home, said all she’d ever need to say.


	31. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Katara want one thing and one thing only for their second anniversary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this has been a dream come true. I honestly can't even put into words how much this story meant to me, to the point where I got five hours of sleep twelve days in a row to write because I just could not stop. I will always have a special place in my heart for "The Waiting Game," and I want to thank all of you for coming with me on this journey - you've made it all worth it. 
> 
> Also, there's no logical or narrative reason that this NEEDS to exist, but nevertheless, I think we deserve it.

**Two Years Later**

“Most Eminent Flower of My Heart, Jewel of My Very Being,” Zuko murmured against his wife’s shoulder. She didn’t stir. “My wife, my lover, my Lady-“

“Mmph, okay, _okay,”_ she groaned, blindly throwing her arm backwards over him. Her elbow collided with his nose and he grunted but said nothing. “Okay, ‘m awake!”

“Morning,” he said, gently pulling her arm down from his face and across her shoulders, where her hand found its way into his.

“Morning,” she muttered, still too grumpy to properly appreciate his valiant attempts at wooing her shortly after sunrise. “Why’m I up? I don’t wanna be up.”

“Happy anniversary.” He pulled her flush against him, burying her face in his shoulder.

She pulled a face at him. “Your anniversary present was _waking me up at dawn?”_ she smacked him with a pillow. “Some of us don’t rise with the sun.”

“I’m sorry,” he said as he pressed a row of kisses to her shoulder. “I just couldn’t wait.”

“Okay, that’s kinda cute,” she grudgingly admitted, pulling him in for a sloppy, barely-awake kiss. “Happy anniversary, love.”

“Two years, can you believe it?” he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. He’d necessarily laid off the sap in the intervening time, but he’d still pull out a syrupy one-liner on occasion, and his doting wife couldn’t deny that it was a part of his charm.

  
“Best two years of my life,” she said, smiling against his skin.

“First of many, I hope,” he said. “You got any idea how lucky I am?”

“Please, Zuko, not a day goes by that I don’t-“

She was promptly interrupted by a series of telltale cries from the crib across the room. “-remind you,” she finished. “I’ve got her.”

“No, you stay here.” Zuko pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before he got up, threw on enough clothing to avoid strange looks should he encounter anyone, and padded to his daughter’s nursery. Katara had all but insisted that Izumi sleep with them until she was old enough for a crib; even now that she was, she was never further than a few steps across the room. “Coming,” he called, as if the baby would hear him and quiet before she woke the entire palace. It didn’t work, though, and she carried on crying even after he hoisted her onto his shoulder and walked back to their bedroom, bouncing her on his shoulder to no avail. Wordlessly, he handed Izumi over to Katara.

  
“Someone’s mad this morning,” Katara said, tickling Izumi’s nose as she fed her. “Sorry, sweetie. You’ll feel better once you get your breakfast, hm?”

“My mother said she could take her for the day,” Zuko told her, sliding back into the sheets beside his wife and leaning in to rest his head against his shoulder. It still felt surreal – that he’d made it and come so far. That he’d married the love of his life, that they were _parents_ (they hadn’t even had the heart to hold out on the Council, not when the image of the other holding a baby with his hair and her eyes had entered both of their minds), that things had leveled out since his chaotic early days – it was almost too much to believe. And he felt like celebrating. “Anything you want to do?”

“Sleep,” Katara sighed, handing Izumi back to Zuko so he could burp her. “I need to catch up on sleep.”

“Sleep? Have we met her?” Zuko chuckled, gently patting Izumi’s back.

“Hey, they tried to get us to hand her over to a nurse,” Katara pointed out. “And the way I remember it-“

“You would’ve thrown the entire palace staff out a window before allowing them to stop you from raising your own daughter,” he finished, sitting beside her again with Izumi snuggled up against his shoulder. Katara didn’t say anything – she seemed to be staring at him, no intention of ever responding – and he asked, “what is it?”

“You and babies,” she said. “Great combination.”

“You hear that, Izumi?” he asked his daughter, who was sound asleep by now. He got up to set her back in her crib. “We’re a ‘great combination.’”

“Hey, I’m just stating the obvious.” Katara raised her hands in surrender, grinning. “Is it a crime to acknowledge that I married a good-looking man who looks even better with a baby?”

He lay down next to her again and took both her wrists in his hands, pulling them to his chest. “No,” he rasped, pressing his forehead to hers. “I don’t agree, necessarily, but I’m never gonna mind you saying it.”

“Good, because I’m gonna keep saying it until you believe me.” She freed one of her hands and traced along his bicep with her index finger, then his forearm, until finally their hands met and she pressed them together, fingers intertwining. “I love you, Zuko.”

“I love you ever so unbearably much,” he replied, cracking a smile that quickly turned devious when he realized that he’d just given himself a golden opportunity to get under Katara’s skin. “You set me in bloom, Most Eminent Flower of My Heart.”

“Careful, Sailor,” she teased, running her other hand along his jawline and stopping at his chin, which she lifted until he met her eyes. “Wouldn’t want you to drown in bad puns.”

“Hey, that was _great!”_ he protested, but Katara caught his lips before he could say anything. They were both too tired to kiss with much hunger, but the sweetness of the familiar feeling lingered like a pleasant fog long after the kiss broke.

“If that’s what makes you happy,” Katara teased. She shifted so she could stretch out beside him and rolled on her side, fitting herself into the curve of his abdomen. “Now I believe sleep was mentioned?”

“Please,” he sighed. “Uninterrupted sleep…I can’t even imagine.”

“Consider it my anniversary gift to you,” she said, snuggling into him as far as she could. “Two years later and we’re still chasing sleep.”

  
“But at least I don’t have to chase you anymore,” he quipped. She reached back and dug her elbow into his ribs. “What was _that_ for?”

“That awful attempt at flirting with me,” Katara told him. “The longer you keep that up, the longer I make you wait before I let you sleep.”

“You mean-“

“I _mean_ that I’ll keep elbowing you until you beg me to stop.” She grinned wickedly. “Honestly, Fire Lord, get your head out of the gutter.”

“That would be a fine plan, but you’re forgetting something,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Playing the waiting game is kind of my thing.”


End file.
